


By The Stars

by subtlehysteria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Treasure Planet Fusion, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Pidge is 17, Slow Burn, only a little but I felt I should add it, they/them pronouns for Pidge, you know the drill with klance fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-02-28 17:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 104,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13276482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlehysteria/pseuds/subtlehysteria
Summary: “What is it?” they asked, looking at it from all sides.“Don’t know,” Keith said, leaning back into the plush cushions.Without asking, Pidge ripped off the wrappings. The string fell to the ground, the brown paper tearing away easily. Pidge’s eyes went wide.“Woah."Keith leaned forward, trying to see what was so interesting.An obsidian black sphere sat in Pidge’s lap. Intricate circular markings were carved into its surface.Keith uttered a quietwoahas well, it being the only appropriate response he could think of.





	1. Chapter 1

_On the clearest of nights, when the winds of the Etherium were calm and peaceful, the great merchant ships with their cargo of Balmeran energy crystals felt safe and secure. Little did they suspect that they were pursued by pirates. And the most feared of all these pirates was the notorious Captain Zacharn. Like a Valtian Carnivoris overtaking its prey –_

“Keith!”

Keith shut his book with a loud _clap!_ , causing the hologram to stutter. He tried to scramble under his blankets but it was too late. The bedroom door had opened and a large, barrel-chested figure stood in the doorway, blocking most of the light.

“Hi dad,” Keith said, all innocence.

Kevin sighed. He walked through the doorway, allowing some of the light into Keith’s bedroom. He narrowly missed tripping over one of Keith’s many model ships.

“What did I say about staying up past your bedtime?”

“I don’t remember that,” Keith said.

Kevin raised a quizzical brow. He was a large man, well-built after years of working on cargo ships. Sturdy is a word most people used to describe him. Keith had even overheard one of his father’s friends calling him “The Tank” once.

“You sure?” He asked, making his way to Keith’s bed. “Could have sworn we had that talk just last night.”

“Nope,” Keith said, burrowing further under his blankets. “Don’t remember.”

Kevin gave a wicked grin.

_Oh no._

“Come here you!”

Keith tried to make a run for it but he didn't get very far. Kevin gripped him around the waist and started tickling every available surface.

“Ah! Dad! Dad, no!” Keith shrieked with laughter.

Kevin chuckled under his breathe. “You sure you don’t remember?”

“Alright! Okay, I remember!” Keith yelled.

Kevin let go, leaving a bedraggled, out of breath Keith in a mess of blankets.

“Never do that again,” Keith said between gasps of air.

“Or what?”

Keith paused. His father chuckled again. “That’s what I thought.”

“Just you wait!” Keith said. Finding his feet, he stood up and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “When I grow up, I’ll be super strong. So strong, people will start calling me The Tank two-point-oh!”

Kevin hung his head in his hands. “Has Rezior been telling stories again?”

“Maybe,” Keith said, falling back onto his mattress. “Speaking of stories –”

“Nope.”

“But dad! I was getting to the best part!”

Kevin gave him _the look._ The, _there’s no point in arguing because we both know who is going to win_ look.

Keith dug out his holographic novel and clutched it to his chest. He batted his eyelids and pouted. “Please?”

Kevin sighed, shaking his head. For a moment, Keith thought he’d lost the battle. But then his father gave him a tired smile.

“Alright.”

“Yes!” Keith made himself comfortable and beckoned his father to join him. He obliged, settling in at Keith’s side.

Slowly, Keith opened his book to where he’d left off. It took a moment for the holograph to reboot but soon enough the switches re-aligned and the story continued. A great big purple ship was making its way towards a snow-white merchant ship, it’s pink and blue banners flying to represent its planet. Keith had done his research (he’d even bought a book of flags to try and figure out the planet) but he’d never managed to find a match.

_Like a Valtian Carnivoris overtaking its prey, Zacharn and his band of renegades swooped in out of nowhere._

Grapple hooks flew from the pirate ship, clinging onto the merchant ship’s bannister, the ropes going taut. Pirates swooped down from the main masts, others leaping over the bannisters, landing heavily on the deck. While the pirates attacked the merchant crew, cutting through them like tissue paper with their blood-soaked cutlasses, Captain Zacharn walked across a gangplank, slow and steady, as if a blood battle weren’t happening right before his eyes. Depending on the book, the image of the pirate captain differed, some presented him with tentacles for a beard, other’s human except for his jaw which was made entirely of clockwork, bronze teeth glinting in the flames of his destruction. Keith’s copy was his favourite version, though. The pirate was covered in thick plating, almost like enlarged scales, making him all sharp angles and razor-edged. His eyes glowed a neon yellow, his fingers dripping into knife-like claws. The hologram stuttered as it went to the next part of the story, where treasure chests full of riches were tipped onto the floor, the golden light almost blinding. Captain Zacharn clutched his stolen treasure in his hands, laughing maniacally as his ship sailed away from the now burning merchant ship.

 _And then,_ the narrator said, _gathering up their spoils, the Captain and his crew vanished, without a trace._

One minute the ship was there, flying through the stars, then, it blinked out of existence.

Keith and Kevin “ooohed” at the same time, an unspoken ritual whenever they got to this part of the book. Keith had heard the story a million times and had made his father read it with him just as many. It never got old.

Keith turned the page, anxious to get to the next part, his favourite part.

The holo-lights dimmed, projecting murky greens and greys to create a smog-like effect. In the background, a planet hovered, too dark to see any details, but it’s looming shadow was there, making its presence known.

_Zacharn's secret trove was never found, but stories have persisted that it remains hidden somewhere in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Stowed with riches beyond imagination, the loot of a thousand worlds…_

“Treasure Planet,” Keith said, in time with the narrator.

Keith felt his father’s hands overlap his own, closing the book for him. His father chuckled as he tucked the book back on the shelf above Keith’s headboard.

“Alright,” he said. “Now it’s officially time for bed.”

Keith ignored him, climbing up his father until he was sitting on one of his broad shoulders. “How do you think he did it, dad? How he swooped in out of nowhere,” Keith jumped, landing roughly on his mattress, “and vanished without a trace?”

“It’s just a story, Keith.”

“How can you say that!” Keith said, standing up to meet his father eye to eye. He wobbled a little as he tried to find his footing on his lumpy mattress. “It could be real. I’ll prove it!”

“Uh huh,” Kevin said, hoisting Keith up from under his armpits and tucking him under his blankets.

“I’m serious!” Keith said. He blew his bangs out of his eyes. “I’ll get a boat and search the universe high and low until I find it.”

“And what’ll you do with all those riches?”

“Buy a real ship and go look for mom,” Keith said, matter of fact.

Kevin frowned. “Keith, we’ve talked about this –”

Keith ducked his head. He didn’t like the sadness in his father’s eyes. “I know dad. But, I can dream, right?” Keith asked, earnest. He’d never met his mom, only ever heard stories. If he could find Treasure Planet then surely, he could find his mom, right?

Kevin gave a small smile, his shoulders slumping. “Yes, of course you can dream.”

“Because to dream is to fly and flying is –”

“The ultimate dream,” Kevin finished for him, a fond smile playing on his lips.

Keith beamed, his eyes shining with glee.

“Okay,” Kevin said, smoothing out Keith’s unruly hair. “Now it’s time for this space ranger to go to sleep.”

Keith humphed, scowling. “But I’m not sleepy!”

“Well,” Kevin said, cradling his stubbly jaw in thought, “we could always have another tickle fight –”

“Never mind, I’m actually super tired!” Keith gave a big, theatrical yawn. Snuggling into his pillow, he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

Kevin chuckled. “Alright. Sleep well, Keith.”

Keith’s bedframe creaked as his father got up, quietly making his way back to the bedroom door. Although not before tripping over Keith’s stuffed lion.

“Dad, can you give her to me?”

Kevin bent down and inspected the toy. It was a ratty old thing, it’s fur a faded red and white. The tail was patchy and the button nose had fallen off ages ago, never to be replaced.

“This old thing?” Kevin asked.

“Don’t insult Red!” Keith said, sitting up. “She helps me fall asleep.”

His father held his hands up in surrender. “Okay,” he said. He brought the toy over, tucking her under Keith’s blankets. Keith wrapped a protective arm around her, digging his nose into her fur.

“Thanks,” Keith mumbled.

Kevin smiled. He ruffled Keith’s hair, saying a soft, “Good night,” before heading out, closing the door behind him. The room went dark.

Keith counted to ten, just in case, before sitting up on his knees and taking down his book from its shelf. He burrowed underneath his blankets, settling in with Red before opening the book up at the final page.

_There are nights where the winds of the Etherium are so inviting in their promise of flight and freedom that it made one's spirit soar._

 

***

 

**12 years later**

 

Keith was flying – well, as close to flying as he could get. He was busy testing out his newest model of solar surfer. Pidge had made a few tweaks so it produced double the speed with half the amount of sunlight it would usually need.

Keith made a quick turn. He gripped the boom of the sail, leaning down until he was nearly parallel to the ground. If he let go now, he’d probably go tumbling down into the gorge. Not that he cared.

He adjusted his grip, recovering easily from the turn.

He reached the top of the cliff and redirected himself. Pressing down hard on the booster button, Keith sped up. He didn’t even flinch when he flew off the cliff. He tilted the nose of the board up, crouching low so he could gain more height without too much wind resistance. The sail flapped, the solar panels glinting in what little sunlight managed to peak out from the grey sky. Keith kept pushing higher and higher until he breached the first layer of clouds, exploding into what he could only describe as a cotton ball field. White clouds plumed around him, swirling in the wind. Keith pressed down on a second button which tucked his sail away in a compartment in his board. He tilted up, up, up until he couldn’t anymore. He hovered for a moment as if he were frozen in time before gravity kicked in. He fell.

Tumbling down, down, down, his stomach lurched at the sudden shift of gravity. Keith loved that feeling. He let gravity do its work as he practised his flip tricks, creating large arcs one after the other. He imagined cutting through canvas with his dagger, shredding it until there was nothing left. Keith angled his nose up once again, making a forty-five-degree angle with his board before flipping upside down, creating a make-shift parachute with his board. He spun and spun until he couldn’t see straight anymore. The wind whipped around him, causing his red leather jacket to flap around his waist like wings. He kept going, falling ever-quicker towards the ground.

_Hold on. Just a little longer…_

He pulled up at the last second, his nose barely brushing the bright orange sands at the bottom of the gorge. Unfurling his sail once more, Keith gripped onto the boom and steered clear of a giant rock fixture. He left a cloud of orange dust in his wake, hollering out into the void. It was safe to scream out here.

A mining plant came into view. It looked abandoned, none of the machines operating except for one of the diggers still gnawing away at a cliff face. Keith grinned as he made his way over. A warning strip was secured above the entrance gate, yellow and black striped like a bumble bee.

_Perfect._

Keith shot straight through it, yelling “Bull's eye!” as he went.

He could hear sirens going off in the distance. It wasn’t a big deal though. This place was deserted and by the time the cops came, he’d be long gone.

Keith tucked his sail away again before skidding across a big metal pipeline. He managed to do a decent half-pipe, popping in the air and grabbing the front side of his board. Releasing his sail, he caught the wind, soaring onwards.

He was headed for the digger next.

The digger consisted of two cogs. The larger one on the outside held the spades that dug into the rock face. Another, slightly smaller cog turned in the other direction on the inside, helping along the bigger cog. How it worked exactly, Keith had no clue. He’d have to ask Pidge next time he saw them. What he did know was that the gaps between the cogs were more than big enough for a boy and his solar surfer to fit through. Hell, he could have easily slipped through the gap with one of those clunky racers the cops used on patrols.

He watched the cogs do their work, the gaps aligning every few notches only to close again just as quickly.

_Challenge accepted._

Keith pressed down hard on his boosters, crouching low. The cogs were turning, the gap beginning to open. Keith tucked his sail away.

The gap was beginning to close.

“Bring it!” he yelled, increasing his speed. Almost there, almost there, almost –

He shot through the gap at the last second. He swore he felt his jacket get caught between the cogs. Keith checked, fingering the leather. It was still intact.

_Thank the stars._

Unfurling his sail with flare, Keith gave another victorious yell. He pulled up out of the gorge in one steep climb, doing one last spin before directing his board up and away.

That’s when he heard the sirens.

Keith looked back to find a cop on his tail, his patrol craft sputtering dark plumes of black smoke behind him. He was about to hit the booster button when another cop sailed down out of nowhere, blocking his path.

Keith came to a stop, hovering inches above the ground. He blew a piece of his fringe out of his face to better glare at the cops.

“Great,” he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, so I only realised now that I forgot to check the box that says this fic is a multi-chapter fic so... yeah, sorry for the confusion! 
> 
> Just a bit of info:
> 
> 1) I have most of this fic written out, with a few minor details here and there. 
> 
> 2) Chapter total is subject to change ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> 3) I'm aiming to update every Friday. (This may also change but for now, that's the plan.)
> 
> 4) I hope you guys enjoy this wild ride and if you have any questions or queries, don't be afraid to hmu in the comments!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has a run in with the cops, we meet his foster mother as well as a certain Galran...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, so I've decided to change my update days to Mondays and Thursdays. I was getting too impatient to post only once a week ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway, hope you enjoy but also just a trigger warning for blood...

When the cops slammed open the doors of The Red Lion Inn, Keith already knew what his foster mother’s reaction was going to be.

He heard a rattle and crash as porcelain shattered against the floor.

He sighed internally. _Not again._

“Keith!” Ms. Raqa stumbled out from behind an overcrowded table of guests, her braids escaping her nurse’s cap. Keith always said she looked better without it, to which Ms. Raqa would retort that it kept her hair out of her face. “You should try it sometime,” she’d say, tugging at Keith’s overgrown hair with a smirk.

“Keith!” she said again as she finally made it to the front door of the inn. Keith tried to shove the cop’s hand off his shoulder, hoping to meet Ms. Raqa half-way but the cop only tightened his grip. He glared down at Keith from behind his slate black-tinted glasses. At least, they replicated glasses. Most cops had been replaced with automatons nearly one hundred years ago, back when they were still in fashion. They were all built the same, the same broad shoulders, strength and barely-above-average intelligence. Clone after clone of law-enforcing, stubborn-assed do-gooders. It was more efficient than having to train humans into service, or so the government said. Keith and Pidge were still sceptical. Usually, Keith could never tell one cop from the other, but he was familiar with this particular pair. Pidge had dubbed them Thing One and Thing Two. Keith thought the nicknames were more than satisfactory.

“Okay guys, thanks for the lift,” Keith said, wrenching Thing Two’s hand off his shoulder and starting towards Ms. Raqa.

“Not so fast,” the automaton said. He pulled Keith back with a quick jerk, nearly tearing off Keith’s sleeve while he was at it. “Watch it!” Keith spat. Thing Two tilted his head in question. The gesture made him look almost human. Keith huffed but remained quiet. He’d run out of warnings a long time ago and he couldn’t afford another fine. Not after last time.

Thing One piped up, addressing Ms. Raqa. “We apprehended Keith operating a solar vehicle in a restricted area.”

Thing Two continued, “Moving violation section fifteen, paragraph, um...” it stuttered.

“Six,” Keith finished for him, rolling his eyes. He knew all these laws by now, seeing as he’d broken most of them.

“Thank you,” the cop said.

“Don’t mention it,” Keith replied sarcastically.

“Keith!” Ms. Raqa snapped. She was gritting her teeth, hands bunching in her apron. Keith knew she was angry, but there was also worry lurking in her ultra-violet eyes. She looked tired. Even with her dark complexion, Keith could see her cheeks were ruddy from exertion. Sweat dotted her upper lip, her shoulders sagged. Keith was supposed to help her serve today during the dinner rush but he’d had a few hours to spare so he’d thought a quick trip on his solar surfer would help pass the time. By the stars, he was wrong.

Thing One continued with the usual spiel. “As you are aware, ma’am, this constitutes a violation of his probation.”

Ms. Raqa sighed in frustration. “Yes, yes. No, I understand. Um, could we just –”

The cop didn’t let Ms. Raqa finish, speaking over her. Keith was about to tell him off, consequences be damned, but Ms. Raqa caught his eye and shook her head.

_Drop it._

Keith gritted his teeth and did as he was told.

“Due to repeated violations of statute-C, we have impounded his vehicle. Any more slip-ups will result in a one-way ticket to Juvenile Hall.”

“Kiddie hoosegow,” Thing One offered.

“The slammo,” Thing Two continued. He shoved Keith towards his foster mother. Keith rubbed at his shoulder. He had a feeling he’d have a nice big bruise by tomorrow.

“Thank you, officers,” Ms. Raqa said, not unkindly. “It won't happen again.” This was directed at Keith. All he could do was duck his head, hide behind his bangs and hope the embarrassment would be over soon. Ms. Raqa didn’t deserve this. She never did.

“We see his type all the time, ma'am,” Thing One said, as if in reassurance.

“Wrong choices,” Thing Two added.

“Dead-enders.”

Thing Two gave a tinny cough. “Losers.”

Keith glared at the two cops. If they noticed, the automatons didn’t show it.

Thing Two’s hat lifted up off of his head in greeting. “You take care now,” he sing-songed. Thing One, however, remained all business. “Let's motor.” The two cops about-faced, chests puffed out as they rolled out the door. Thing Two closed the door behind them with a loud _bang!_

Keith turned back to Ms. Raqa, preparing an excuse, only to find an entire dining hall staring back at him.

Ms. Raqa followed Keith’s line of sight. The boarders quickly resumed their meals, chattering amongst themselves as if nothing had happened.

Ms. Raqa turned her attention back to Keith. He ducked his head, tucking his hands into the pockets of his red leather jacket. He made his hands into tight fists, feeling the tough leather of his fingerless gloves. It gave him comfort.

“Keith, we need to talk," Ms. Raqa started.

Standing around wasn’t going to help. Keith grabbed a tray and started piling it with dirty dishes, clearing an abandoned table. This wasn’t going to do anything about the current situation, but it gave him something to do and an excuse to not meet Ms. Raqa’s eyes.

“Keith, please. You and I both know the last place you'd want to go is Juvenile Hall,” Ms. Raqa continued, knowing full well what Keith was doing. Keith didn’t respond.

“Keith,” she said, exasperated.

Keith still said nothing as he loaded up the final dirty plate.

“Keith, look at me.”

Keith bit his lip, but glanced up at Ms. Raqa, meeting her eyes reluctantly.

“You know I care about you,” she said, softly, for his ears only, “but it’s been so hard keeping this place afloat by myself without you –”

“Ms. Raqa,” Keith interrupted, “it’s no big deal.”

Her face fell. Keith winced. He shouldn’t have done that. He racked his brains, making up an excuse, “It wasn't like I hurt anyone, and those cops, they have it out for me and –” He didn’t finish.

Ms. Raqa gave him the look, _her_ look. The one that said, _I don’t believe a word of it._ It reminded him of his father, of tickle fights and play-wrestling.

“Forget it,” he mumbled, ducking his head. His stomach ached from the guilt.

Someone called for Ms. Raqa, a woman. She shook an empty glass in her pincher, indicating that she wanted more juice.

“Yes, I’ll be right there, Ma’am,” Ms. Raqa called. She turned her attention back to Keith.

“Keith, just... I don't want to see you throw away all that potential.” When Keith gave no response, Ms. Raqa turned and went to assist her guests.

Keith huffed a sardonic laugh as he made his way to the kitchen door. Leaning back to open it with his shoulder, he muttered, “I've never had potential.”

 

***

 

Keith was out on the roof, practising tricks with his dagger. Ms. Raqa was constantly reprimanding him for it, threatening to take it away, but Keith always managed to break into her safe no matter how many padlocks she put on it. By now, she’d given up.

Keith flicked it between his fingers then chucked it up into the air. It landed flat on the back of his hand as if he were playing heads or tails with a doubloon. The wrappings on its handle were starting to come loose. Keith made a mental note to change them later.

He flicked his dagger again, balancing the tip on his index finger when a shrill voice caught his attention.

“I just don’t know how she does it!”

Down below, two female Braxians were exiting the inn. Their spindly legs clattered against the wooden platform. Braxians always reminded Keith of praying mantises, with their round, flat eyes and pincers on either side of their jaws.

“Honestly, she should just hand him over to the juvenile hall already, save everyone the trouble!” the second cackled, laughing into her friend’s shoulder.

Someone cleared their throat.

Keith crept forward, peeking over the lip of the roof to find his foster mother at the door of the inn. Bright yellow light shone behind her, casting her shadow so large it swallowed the two Braxians whole.

“Oh! Anathi, we didn’t see you,” one of the Braxians stammered.

“That so?” Ms. Raqa said, placing her hands on her hips.

If those two Braxians knew what was good for them, they would get the hell out of there. Hands-on-hips was the sign that shit was about to go down and for once, Keith wasn’t on the receiving end. He couldn’t help the small quirk of his lips. This was going to be interesting.

“We were only joking, Anathi,” the second Braxian offered, all signs of glee wiped clean. Keith could see her three pairs of knees quaking.

“Oh, well then you won’t mind letting me in on the joke, Elli?” Ms. Raqa asked, her voice dripping with false pleasantness. Keith could just imagine the dare in her eyes.

The first Braxion, Elli, piped up. “Come to think of it, it wasn’t really that funny.”

The second Braxion nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, I don’t think you would have found it all that funny Anathi, very common humour.”

Ms. Raqa hummed, nodding her head. “Alright. Well, if you find anything more suitable to my tastes don’t be afraid to let me in on the joke. I’d just _love_ to hear it.”

The two Braxions froze, taking in Ms. Raqa’s words. Quickly bidding their goodbyes, they speed-walked to their carriage.

Ms. Raqa waited until they were well out of sight before she let out a long, tired sigh. Her shoulders slumped, her whole body wilting.

Keith’s smirk dropped. A solid rock of guilt sunk deep into his stomach.

“Anathi?” Ms. Raqa quickly recovered, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Oh, Xiana, how are you?” A female Unilu had appeared next to Ms. Raqa, both pairs of hands clasped loosely in front of her. Her green skirt contrasted greatly with her bright orange skin, although she seemed to make it work.

“I think the more important question is, how are you?” Xiana asked softly.

Ms. Raqa remained silent a moment before ducking her head. “To be honest, I’m at the end of my rope.”

Xiana nodded, encouraging Ms. Raqa to continue.

She stammered, tripping over her words. “I just – it’s been difficult, running the inn and having to deal with all of this,” she wove her hands in the air. “I care for Keith so much. He’s so smart, I mean, he told me once he built his own solarsurfer when he was eight.”

Keith smiled at the little hint of praise. He’d had nothing better to do that summer holiday, especially since his father had started going on longer trips to the Balmera.

“And yet,” Ms. Raqa continued, “well... you know he got expelled from the Garrison but he still won't tell me why. He was their best student when he first started out. Now, he’s constantly in trouble and whenever I try and speak to him he just brushes me off.”

Xiana placed a hand on Ms. Raqa’ shoulder, rubbing soothing circles. Xiana was a close friend of Ms. Raqa’s, always willing to listen when most people opted for gossiping. Her kindness made the tension in Keith’s shoulders lift if only a little bit.

“I just don’t know what to do, Xiana. I’ve tried everything –” That seemed to be the breaking point for Ms. Raqa as she collapsed into Xiana’s arms. Keith could hear snatches of their conversation between quiet sobs, words like “worried” and “eighteen soon… what is he going to do?”

Xiana pushed Ms. Raqa away gently, holding her at arm’s length. “How about we continue talking over a cup of tea, hm?” Xiana asked.

Ms. Raqa nodded. That seemed enough of an answer as Xiana led Ms. Raqa inside, closing the door to the Red Lion quietly behind them.

Keith crawled away from the edge of the roof. He laid down, back flat against the tin panelling. He looked up to find grey clouds swirling in the sky. He couldn’t help but feel that they were mirroring his thoughts.

He’d come to Ms. Raqa nearly three years ago, after another botched stay at a foster home. He was first admitted when he was thirteen, skipping through seven foster homes before Ms. Raqa offered to take him in. He’d been given back all for the same reasons; he’s unsociable, disrespectful, too angry, has violent tendencies, will never amount to anything. Why Ms. Raqa took him on, he’ll never know. What he did know was that she was too good for him. She ran The Red Lion full time by herself with only a part-time maid and a cook as well as having to deal with Keith whenever he had a run-in with the cops (which was frequently). She’d thought the Galaxy Garrison – a boarding school for future space explorers – would help. She had paid full tuition out of her own pocket only for Keith to flunk out just before he’d turned seventeen. The words disciplinary issues had been written in big, fat red letters on the dismissal form.

_He has an attitude problem, doesn’t know how to respect his peers, he’ll never be able to work with a real crew. He’s a lone wolf._

One year. One whole year since Keith was booted out of the Garrison. A year of arrests and fines and warnings. And still, Ms. Raqa refused to send him away.

“You have potential, Keith,” she'd said. It was May, finals right around the corner when Keith had been suspended for a week, so he was helping out at the inn. They were cleaning up after a particularly busy dinner rush. Ms. Raqa was washing the overload of dishes while Keith dried and packed them away. She smiled her encouraging smile. A motherly smile. “I know you do. You just need to use that big brain of yours for once.”

The dismissal letter had come the next day.

Keith sighed. He sheathed his dagger and started to get to his feet. He was considering whether he should try to sneak back into his room when he heard a loud rattling. He squinted up at the sky, searching amongst the clouds until he spotted a ship. Its engines were sputtering, billows of black clouds trailing behind it. It whizzed past the roof of the inn, scratching the gutter before crash-landing on one of the faraway docks.

Keith acted immediately. Unsheathing his dagger once more, he slid off the roof, scrambling as he hit the deck at the bottom. He ran to the ship. Keith tried to clear the air of smoke, waving his hands in front of his face as he neared the front of the ship.

It was a strange craft; one Keith had never seen before. It was slate black with neon-blue markings. It was small, big enough to carry a pilot only. The windshield was crowded with smoke, obscuring Keith’s view of the inside. Keith pried it open, having to use his dagger as leverage. The windshield popped open, belching black smoke out into the open. A figure stumbled out of the cockpit, falling to its knees. Keith rushed to its side then froze.

It was covered in thick purple fur, its ears ending in large points, almost like a cat’s. Its yellow eyes glowed, luminescent even through the thick cloud of smoke.

Galra. It was a Galran.

Keith stood up and planted his feet wide, ready for a fight. His years at the Garrison had taught him this much: never trust a Galran. They were a dangerous species, bloodthirsty and willing to do anything to gain power.

The Galran spluttered, waving away the last of the smoke. He was on all fours, clutching his side. On closer inspection, Keith saw that a small pool of dark liquid was beginning to gather at the Galran’s side. Blood, he realised. The Galran was injured.

Keith relaxed a little, although he still held his dagger in hand, just in case.

“Please,” the Galran wheezed. “You have to, you have to –” he began another round of wet coughs.

Keith knelt down, a hand hovering at the Galran’s back. He was at a cross road. Should he trust him? Should he finish him off? Could he?

 _He might be Galran,_ some part of him called, _but that didn’t make his injuries any less serious._ Maybe he did have a conscience.

“What’s your name?” Keith asked, hesitant. He didn’t really know what else to do.

“Thace,” the Galran said. “My name is Thace.”

“Okay. Thace,” Keith said, tucking an arm around the Galran’s shoulders, “I’m going to get you to a medic, okay?”

“The chest,” Thace said.

“The what?”

Thace shrugged Keith off and started to crawl back to the ship. Keith got there before him and looked in the cockpit. Sure enough, a small chest was nestled underneath the seat. Keith brought it out. It reminded him of the treasure chests from his storybook. It was surprisingly light.

Thace gripped at Keith’s wrist. “You need to get to a safe spot,” he said, coughing into his hand. “You need to get away.”

“Not without taking care of you first,” Keith said.

Thace shook his head. “I don’t matter. Not compared to this,” he indicated the chest.

“Okay,” Keith said, placating. He swung an arm around Thace’s waist and helped him to his feet. “I’ll take care of it while we get you patched up, alright?”

Thace only shook his head.

It was a long walk to the inn from the dock, and with a full grown Galran on his shoulders, the trek became twice as long for Keith. His hand slipped when he touched the wound at Thace’s side. Thace hissed under his breath but otherwise did not make a sound.

When they reached the inn, Keith was about to open the door when he saw Ms. Raqa through the window. She was sitting with Xiana still, a cup of tea in hand. Her head was bowed, her cap off to reveal a large bun of braids unravelling around her neck. She looked so… defeated. Keith turned away, dragging Thace along with him.

He wasn’t going to do this to her. She’d had enough of Keith for one day, dragging an injured Galran into the mix was only going to make it worse. Instead, Keith made a beeline for his shed. Usually, it was a five-minute walk, but with Thace it amounted to nearly twenty.

It was dingy little thing. Before Keith converted it, it had been a gardener’s shed, full of rusty tools and empty paint cans. Ms. Raqa had said he could use it as long as he cleaned it up. Keith had taken to the task immediately. After his expulsion, he was restless and Ms. Raqa knew it. Perhaps she figured the project would keep him out of trouble. _Fat load of good that did…_

It took almost a month but the end result was worth it. He’d practically rebuilt the inside of the shed from scratch, adding shelving, a new door, installing a large window that would face the sun when it set in the evening. He’d even managed to scrounge together some second-hand furniture, a lumpy old divan taking up one wall and a coffee table in the center. Outside was a canopy to protect his solar surfer when it wasn’t in use.

Keith kicked the door open, causing it to slam against the wall. He hauled Thace in and placed him as gently as he could on the divan. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot but it would have to do.

“Do you want water?”

Thace nodded his head. Keith dug around until he found the extra canteen of water he kept lying around. He offered it to Thace then, when he realized Thace wouldn’t be able to hold it himself, held the canteen to his lips for him and poured the water slowly. Thace drank a good three-quarters before raising his hand to stop. Keith capped the canteen and turned back to Thace. His wound was still bleeding, leaving a deep plum purple puddle on the cushion. Keith found a washcloth and bundled it up, pressing it to Thace’s side.

“Not the best solution but it should work until I can get a medic here.”

Thace shook his head. “No, not enough time.”

“Hey,” Keith said, placing a light hand on Thace’s shoulder, “you’ll be fine. I’ve got a transmitter somewhere around here –”

Thace gripped the front of Keith’s shirt and dragged him forward. “You need to take the chest and go. Do not worry about me.”

Keith began to protest. What was this guy’s deal? “Listen, man, we need to prioritize –”

“I am prioritizing!” Thace snapped.

Keith pulled back on instinct, hand going to the dagger at his belt.

Thace sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head, as if in self-admonishment, “If you would?” He pointed at the coffee table, indicating the chest.

Keith hesitated. Thace waited patiently.

With a sigh, Keith gave in and dragged the chest over. He placed it in Thace’s lap. Thace said nothing as he turned the chest lock-forwards. He punched in a code, the lid popping open. He reached inside and brought out a sphere covered in brown packaging and string.

 _All of this trouble for a ball?_ Keith thought indignantly.

“They’ll be coming soon,” Thace said, his voice barely above a whisper. Keith could see he was struggling to breathe, his chest rising and falling in quick succession. “By then you must be gone, otherwise they will kill you and your foster mother.”

Keith stammered. “What?”

Thace ignored him, reaching blindly until Keith came closer. Keith felt Thace’s hands meet his own, purple fur brushing his fingers. Thace placed the sphere in Keith’s hands. He took it, about to undo the string when Thace stopped him. “Not here. It’s not safe.”

“Okay,” Keith said, pocketing the package. He felt as if he were carrying a rock in his pocket.

Thace began to cough again, his chest heaving. When he pulled his hand back, his palm was decorated with dark purple blood.

Keith was already standing. “We need to get help.”

“You’re just like her,” Thace rasped.

Keith turned back to find a smiling Thace.

“Like who?”

Thace’s smile disappeared. “Beware the cyborg,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“The what?”

“Do this for me, Keith.” Thace gave another round of wet coughs. Small trickles of blood gathered in the corners of his mouth. “You’re the Blade’s last hope.”

Keith snarled in frustration, his fingers itching with the want to do something, _anything_ to help. “You’re not making sense, I don’t understand –”

Thace’s eyes were wide open one moment, and the next they blinked closed. The Galran slumped back, his head laying at an awkward angle. He’d stopped breathing. Keith lunged forward, checking Thace’s pulse. There was nothing.

Keith froze.

He didn’t know what to do.

He’d never seen anyone die before.

“By the stars,” Keith muttered.

The silence of the shack was overwhelming. Keith balled his hands into fists, a scream clawing its way up his throat. He wanted to yell, kick something, anything to stop this. Why did this happen? Why did this stuff always happen to him?

A humming sound interrupted Keith’s thoughts. He went still, listening. The humming grew louder until Keith recognized the whirring of a ship. He rushed to the window. It had started raining, the dots of grey and blue blocking his vision. He could just make out a few shadowy figures jumping down from a ship a few meters away. They were heading towards the inn.

“No. No, no, no,” Keith muttered. He turned on the spot, looking back at Thace’s limp form. There wasn’t anything he could do now. He’d have to leave Thace behind. Making sure the sphere was still secure in his jacket pocket, Keith sprinted out the door. He was immediately drenched.

“Hey!” he yelled, waving his arms above his head. “Hey! Over here!” One of the figures turned to face Keith. “Come on, come on,” Keith growled, still waving his arms frantically. The figure pointed in Keith’s direction, then waved over the rest of his crew. They started running towards the shed.

 _Thank the stars,_ Keith thought as he ran to the back of the shed. Underneath the make-shift canopy was his newest project: a hoverbike. This one was a little more stylish than the police’s clunky vehicles, though. Sleek and sharp, this bike was made for speed. Keith had based it on some pictures his father showed him once, explaining how, before hover crafts, vehicles used what were called wheels. A particular design had caught his eye; a two-wheeled vehicle his father called a motorbike. It was cherry red. Keith fell in love at first sight.

Now, he prayed to the stars that his plan would work. Technically, the bike wasn’t flight worthy, he and Pidge were still making adjustments for safety reasons. Now, safety was going to be thrown out the window.

Keith straddled his bike, kicking it’s stand up. He pressed the 'on' button and wrung the throttle. The bike sputtered, the headlights coming on for a moment, then flickering out.

“Come on!” Keith gritted out through his teeth. He could hear the approaching footsteps of the perpetrators over the rain. He swore under his breath.

Keith pressed the button once, twice, thrice, each time wringing the throttle with sheer determination. On the fourth try, the bike finally kick-started into life.

“Yes!” Keith yelled.

“Over there!” Someone yelled.

“Shit.” Keith didn’t even bother to check if the warning lights were working. Pushing up off the ground, he wrung the throttle and surged forward. He barely missed knocking into a figure with blinding-white hair.

“He’s getting away!” the figure yelled, running back to its ship.

Keith smirked to himself as he leaned forward, picking up the pace until he was going well over the speed limit.

_Catch me if you can._

Risking a glance over his shoulder, Keith saw the figures heading back to the ship, it’s engine already starting. They were going to pursue him, just like he planned. The further away they got from the inn, the better.

As Keith continued winding down the dirt path, he prayed that none of the perpetrators had entered the inn in search of the sphere.

Up ahead were two choices: to the right, the broad road that led to town or to the left, the thinner, rockier path that lead to the outskirts. Keith leaned to the left, hoping to throw his pursuers off. He kept his ears open, straining to hear the whirring of a ship’s engine. His wish was granted. A bright light shone on his back, casting a long black shadow in front of him.

Alright, so he had their attention.

Keith veered to the left again, taking the road to the upper cliffs. He had an idea, a crazy, near impossible idea, but an idea all the same. He thought about Ms. Raqa, how she was probably still sitting with her cold cup of tea, head hung low. Keith wondered if she had noticed that he hadn’t come home yet. He hoped not.

The whirring became louder, the light of the ship bearing down on Keith’s back. He needed to act fast.

He kept an eye out, looking for the sign. Finally, he spotted it: the abandoned mining plant.

The path was even thinner here, calling for sharp turns and near misses with prickle bushes. Keith silently thanked Pidge for their alterations on his bike’s steering mechanism.

The ship was still on his tail, but he could tell they were struggling to keep up. He was counting on it. Wringing the throttle, Keith willed his bike to pick up speed, nearly toppling over at the next turn.

_Almost there._

The mining plant opened up underneath Keith, all machinery halted. Including the digger.

_Perfect._

Keith rode down the steep hill, ramming through the metal gates easily. He switched off his headlights. He knew this place like the back of his hand, so he needn’t worry. Swerving between the structures, Keith tried to keep his movements as erratic as possible. The ship, being too large for the tight spaces, had to pull up, giving them a poorer view of Keith. He’d managed to shake off their searchlight.

Keith spotted the digger ahead and like he remembered, there was a sheet of metal lying at an angle. It would act as a make-shift ramp. It was rickety and unstable at best, but it would have to do.

Keith prepared for the leap. He pushed his bike to its limit, pressing his chest flat onto the handlebars to cause less resistance. He rode up the ramp and through the air.

For a moment, Keith thought he was going to miss the mark, that he’d miscalculated his height, that he’d fall short. But then he flew through the gap and slammed his breaks, coming to an abrupt stop. He dug his heels in, nearly falling over his handlebars in the process, but he managed to stay put. He’d landed in the gap between the two cogs, his bumper just sticking out the front of the tunnel. Keith quickly backed up, making sure his bike wasn't poking out on either side. Now, all he had to do was wait.

He stood as still as possible, keeping both feet on the ground so that his bike wouldn’t hover too far out. He needed to stay in the shadows if this was going to work.

Then, he heard it. The ship came flying past overhead, it’s engine roaring.

Keith watched as its lights retreated, going on a wild goose chase for a boy who was no longer there.

But he wasn’t safe just yet.

He watched as the ship made a tight turn on itself, coming back around the way it came. The searchlights neared, heading closer and closer to the digger. Keith held his breath, waiting.

The ship had slowed down considerably, it’s crew taking the time to observe every structure they could in search of Keith. The lights drew closer to the digger. Shining on the bottom half, the searchlights slowly climbed up the machine. They hovered by Keith’s hiding spot, the light just about to touch the front of his bike when it suddenly disappeared. The ship sailed overhead, creaking as it went.

Keith counted to ten before finally breathing again. He let out a great puff of air, inhaling deeply to chase away the dizziness. His plan had worked. It had actually worked.

Keith stayed on his hoverbike, using the tips of his toes to maintain his balance as he switched it off. He’d have to wait out the ship for at least a half hour before moving on.

He counted down the minutes under his breath, savouring every second he didn’t hear the whirring of an engine.

Finally, he reached the end of his countdown. Keith swung a leg over, putting up his kickstand while he was at it. Slowly, he made his way to the end of the tunnel. He peeped his head out, looking for any signs of the ship. Nothing. He walked over to the other side of the tunnel. Nothing there either, just the rain and wide open spaces.

Keith breathed a sigh of relief.

He was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a side note: yes, I will be lifting certain lines from the movie, like with the cops in this scene. Its mainly because I love them too much to try and change them, so I'm saying this now: the lines from the movie are not mine, they belong to the writers of Treasure Planet, Ron Clements and John Musker.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith heads to the Holt mansion for cover, we meet the night-owl that is Pidge, and Keith finally takes a look at what's caused all this trouble.

Having parked his hoverbike underneath a make-shift cover of tree branches, Keith stood outside of Pidge’s entrance hall, soaking wet and shivering. The rain had lessened considerably but there was still enough that Keith thought he would drown before he made it to the Holt mansion. It was roughly eleven o’clock. 

He knocked incessantly until someone finally opened the door. Unsurprisingly, it was Pidge. Keith had bet on their nocturnal habits, knowing they’d be up even at this late hour (in their case, early hour). They were still dressed in their usual day clothes: a white shirt two-sizes-too-big and olive-green breaches with matching knee socks. They looked rumpled all over. 

“Keith?” they said, eyes going wide.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his teeth chattering. 

Pidge ushered him in, closing the door behind them and putting several locks in place, most of them electronic. Pidge was of a small stature, nearly two heads shorter than Keith, but what they lacked in height, they made up for in brains. Pidge had been the top of the advanced class back when Keith was still in the Garrison. After the disaster that was Pidge’s first trial-flight, the Garrison deemed Pidge unsuitable for space travel and banished them to the theoretic department where students were stuck behind desks all day every day. Pidge had been disgruntled but they managed to one-up the Garrison by skipping three grades in one go, making it into the advanced class by the age of fourteen. It would usually take years of study for any cadet to achieve such a level. Pidge did it in six months. They graduated at the age of fifteen, got themselves a doctorate and excelled in theoretical papers on Astronomical Science. By sixteen, Pidge had published their first paper on the Theory of Space Travel and how matter could eventually be warped to allow one to travel lightyears in a matter of seconds. They’d instantly become famous.

Back then, Pidge was still going by their birth name, Katie Holt. They decided to take a non-de-plume for their publishing, however. “Because scientists are jerks who think women are incompetent,” Pidge had grumbled. Pidge Gunderson. It was a nonsense name, based on their bother’s childhood nickname and a play on their dog’s name, Gunther. Somehow, they’d settled on Gunderson. The name stuck, and Pidge went by it ever since.

That was two years ago. Keith could still remember Pidge at age fourteen, with their straight, waist-length hair and a tongue as sharp as a whip.

§

Keith was preparing for a second-level flight test when three students stumbled out of the exit, having failed their trail flight. A boy, who was more on the burly side, was busy arguing with a girl who couldn’t have been older than fourteen. The third cadet stood off to the side, not wanting to be associated with his fellow team members.

“I totally had that last turn!”

“No, you didn’t!” the girl huffed. “And you would have known that if you’d just stopped being an arrogant pig for once and listened to my suggestions!”

“Well maybe if you’d stayed in your seat and did as you were told, then maybe I would have!”

“ENOUGH!”

The two cadets went silent.

General Iverson called them to attention. Iverson was a legend at the Garrison, not only for his years of experience but also because of his strict conduct. He was big, loud, and fearsome. And he knew it. 

He yelled in the cadet’s faces, giving an endless list of mistakes. The boy stood there, ram-rod straight, silent. Suddenly, he had nothing to say. Iverson then turned his attention to the girl. She was smaller than others, with tawny-brown hair pulled in a sideways ponytail. He watched as she clutched the material of her pants, hands shaking a little. Keith grimaced. He knew how that felt. He knew how harsh Iverson could be. 

Keith could see they were freshmen by the single beige stripe on their shoulder (each year you passed, you added a stripe until Senior year, where you were given a whole new uniform to show off your status) and judging by their abysmal score, it was their first test flight as well. The girl had shrunken to half her size by the time Iverson was done with them. 

“And you!” Iverson pointed a thick finger in the girl’s face. “If you think you’re stepping foot on any ship ever again, then missy, you are severely wrong!”

“Hey! Cut her some slack!”

Iverson stopped mid-rant, turning a one-eyed glare Keith’s way. “Excuse me?” he growled.

Keith stalked over. He only reached Iverson’s collarbone but that didn’t stop him from poking the general in the chest.

“I said, cut her some slack.”

Iverson squared up to his full height, chest puffed out. Keith couldn’t help but be reminded of that children’s tale. _I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in._

“You best watch your mouth cadet.”

“Or what?” Keith grit out. 

“Or you’ll sit out on the rest of this semester’s trail flights and fail the year. How does that sound?”

Keith threw his head back and laughed. He heard an audible gasp from the small crowd behind him. He ignored it, relishing in the moment. “Yeah right.”

Iverson arched a brow. He looked like he was about to say something but Keith beat him to it, “I highly doubt you’ll bench your best fighter pilot, especially since the Major is coming in next week for the yearly evaluation.”

Iverson froze. He looked positively gobsmacked.

Keith bore his teeth in an ugly sneer but kept his tone light and airy. “So, unless you want the Garrison to lose a star, I suggest you think twice before debasing your students.” Keith sent a look the girl’s way. Her eyes were wide with shock but her mouth was twitching in a barely-there smile. 

Keith glared back up at Iverson, waiting for his response.

Iverson ground his jaw, a vein pulsing at his temple. 

“You’re on cleaning duty for the next month, cadet,” he said. “And you,” he directed his gaze to the girl. “We’ll discuss your classes later.”

The girl breathed a sigh of relief and, when Iverson wasn’t looking, gave Keith a grateful smile.

With Iverson’s reluctant go-ahead, Keith marched his crew to the trail boats and managed to beat his record by ten points, just to prove his point.

***

She was waiting for him after he’d finished his trial flight. 

“Hey,” she said, “Wait a second!”

Keith stopped and waited for the girl to catch up. “Hi?” he said, a little unsure of himself. He’d been here over a year but he still didn’t know how to interact with the rest of his fellow cadets. Small talk and idle chit-chat wasn’t really his thing. 

“I just wanted to say thank you, for earlier,” she said, blowing a strand of fringe out of her face.

Keith shrugged. “No big deal. He was being a jerk.”

The girl arched a quizzical brow. “No big deal? This is Iverson we’re talking about.”

Keith shrugged again. “It’s pretty easy to find loopholes if you know where to look.”

The girl grinned. “I’m Katie, but you can call me Pidge. Oh, and, uh, this will probably sound weird but, um, I use they and them pronouns.” They offered their hand. Keith didn’t hesitate, giving it a friendly shake. Pidge had a surprisingly firm grip. 

“Keith. And it’s not weird.”

Their smile brightened ten-fold. “Nice to officially meet you, Keith. I’ve heard a lot of stories about you.”

“All terrible I hope.”

Pidge cackled and Keith couldn’t help but join in on the laughter. 

“I have a feeling we’re going to get along swimmingly,” Pidge said, a mischievous look in their eyes.

§

Keith chuckled at the memory. Pidge had changed so much and yet not at all. Their tawny brown hair, now cut short, was a mess of cowlicks. They also wore big round glasses perched on their nose for no other reason than because they found them fashionable. Their amber eyes shone with curiosity. 

“What happened?” they said, drawing Keith back to the present. “Why were you out in the rain? And why are you riding the bike? You know we haven’t done the final checks! It’s dangerous! You could have –”

“P-Pidge,” Keith shivered, “c-could I maybe get a t-towel please?”

“Oh, right!” Pidge rushed down the hall, slipping around the corner in their socked feet. Keith stayed in the entrance hall, not wanting to get the carpets wet. He gripped his jacket firmly around his chest, rubbing his thumbs up and down the worn-in leather. It brought a bit of comfort.

Keith turned to glance at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He was met with what looked like a soaking wet alley cat. His hair was plastered to his head, creating a thick ink-black curtain. His bangs tickled his nose, the longer hairs at the back of his neck beginning to itch. His shirt clung to his chest, showing the outline of his ribs. His red and white leather jacket was dappled with water drops, dripping onto the floor and causing a puddle to form at his feet. His boots squelched when he wiggled his toes. He was going to need a new pair of socks. 

Keith glanced back up once again, focusing on his face. He looked gaunt, his skin milky-white. His lips were turning blue from the cold and his eye colour had changed. They always did that. Pidge had joked once that it depended on his mood. Keith couldn’t help but agree now as stone grey eyes stared back at him, grim and agitated. 

“Here ya go,” Pidge said, chucking an entire pile of towels at Keith. He was caught off guard, managing to catch only one. The rest fell at his feet. 

“Your reflexes need polishing,” Pidge smirked. Keith scowled at them, reaching down for the rest of the towels. He peeled off his leather jacket, throwing it over Pidge’s head. He ignored their yelp as the wet material slapped against their face. 

“Hey!” they said, struggling underneath the mass of leather. “I’m not a coat rack.”

“Yeah, you’re too short,” Keith said, chuckling as he towel-dried his hair. 

Pidge retaliated with a rude hand gesture, causing Keith to burst out laughing.

***

Pidge managed to scrounge together some of their older brother’s spare clothes, leaving Keith in too-long pants and a too-tight white linen shirt. At least the socks were fluffy. They settled down in the living room which also acted as Pidge’s study. The room was vast, far too big for the scarce amount of furniture it held. Most of the floor space was occupied by piles of books, trinkets and manuscripts. Pieces of paper were scattered everywhere, all with Pidge’s scratchy handwriting working out their next theorem or paper or project or all three. The walls were covered in paintings of the Holt family. Brown hair and eyes were a family trait and a few wore glasses similar to Pidge’s. Above that were the wall murals depicting voyages throughout the galaxy. Adventurers looked through their spyglasses, searching for their next conquest. There was a massive fireplace opposite the entrance, creating an abundant light source. It was flanked on either side by floor-to-ceiling windows that opened out to a view of the town, far below the Holt mansion. And above Keith’s head was the family observatory. Samual Holt used it for his studies while Pidge and Keith used it to plot their non-existent future voyages. 

All of it was familiar to Keith. The Holt mansion was like a second home (if one could consider a mansion/observatory owned by a seventeen-year-old genius a home). 

Keith and Pidge were sitting in plush armchairs by the fireplace, Keith’s wet clothes drying on a rack in front of the grate. Keith was sipping on a cup of sugary tea, grateful for the warmth, as he watched the orange flames dance and flicker. For some reason, Keith always found fire calming.

“So, why exactly are you here in the middle of the night?”

Keith turned his attention away from the flames, meeting Pidge’s curious gaze. He didn’t answer. Instead, he got up and walked over to the drying rack where his leather jacket hung. He ruffled round in its pockets until he produced the package. He chucked it into Pidge’s lap. 

“That’s why,” Keith said, settling back into his armchair. 

Pidge eyed the package, uncertain about what to do with it. “What is it?” they asked, looking at it from all sides.

“Don’t know,” Keith said, leaning back into the plush cushions.

Without asking, Pidge ripped off the wrappings. The string fell to the ground, the brown paper tearing away easily. Pidge’s eyes went wide. 

“Woah.”

Keith leaned forward, trying to see what was so interesting. 

An obsidian black sphere sat in Pidge’s lap. When Keith squinted, he could see it was covered in intricate circular designs. 

Keith uttered a “Woah,” as well, it being the only appropriate response he could think of.

Pidge picked it up gently, twirling it around to get a good look at all angles. “Where did you get this?” they asked.

“That’s kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” Pidge said, meeting Keith’s eyes for a split-second before turning their attention back to the sphere. 

Keith sighed. He really didn’t have the energy for this, but Pidge deserved to know what they were getting into.

“Okay.”

***

Pidge sat in silence for a good five minutes after Keith told them the short version of what had happened. Their jaw hung wide open, their eyes even bigger. “Holy fuck,” they finally murmured.

“Yeah,” Keith said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“So, who were the goons?” Pidge asked excitedly.

“Don’t know.”

“Okay, and what about the Galra guy? Did he say where he came from? Why he was on Earth?”

Keith shook his head. “Nope.”

Pidge’s mouth pinched into a pout. “And you have no idea what this thing is?” They indicated the sphere still sitting in their lap.

Keith shook his head again. 

“Well, that’s so helpful, Keith. Really informative,” Pidge said, spewing sarcasm. 

“Hey, I’m just as confused as you are. I don’t know shit about what just happened. I’m just happy to be alive.” _And that Ms. Raqa is safe._

“Fine. Let’s go over the facts,” Pidge said, tucking their feet underneath them. “Thace, the Galra, was running from a cyborg.”

Keith nodded.

“He needed to keep this,” Pidge held up the sphere, “hidden from said cyborg.”

Again, Keith nodded.

“This is valuable. Why we don’t know.” Pidge frowned at the sphere as if with one look they could make it divulge all its secrets. “Valuable enough for a bunch of goons to chase after you for a good hour.”

“Yeah, fun,” Keith muttered. 

“And you didn’t get a good look at any of them?” Pidge asked.

“No, it was dark by then and the rain didn’t help any.”

“Pity. Might’ve helped to see what species they were.”

Keith arched a brow.

“To make it easier to look out for them,” Pidge said, matter-of-fact. “You don’t think they’d give up just because they lost your trail. They’re probably still searching for you right now.”

Keith shivered at the thought. What if they went back to the inn? What if they stormed the place, held Ms. Raqa at gunpoint and demanded to know where Keith was?

“Don’t worry,” Pidge said as if reading Keith’s mind. “The last place they’ll look is at the inn.”

“You sure?” Keith whispered.

“Positive,” Pidge said. “You gotta think like thy enemy to know thy enemy. They won’t go back there. Plus, I sent an EM over to Anathi, so she knows you’re staying here with me tonight.” An electro-message, EM for short, was saved for emergencies usually, seeing as it took a lot of energy. It was a holographic message that could be read by the recipient and then deleted afterwards.

Keith nodded. He appreciated Pidge’s help, although he still felt an unsettling tug in his stomach. He’d send a message to Ms. Raqa tomorrow morning as well, try and explain the situation. She needed to be on the lookout.

To think, it had all started with solar surfing. Maybe if he hadn’t gone out that afternoon, none of this would have happened. Ms. Raqa wouldn’t be disappointed again. He wouldn’t have had another run-in with the police. Thace’s ship might not have crash-landed at their docking station and Keith wouldn’t have nearly caught hypothermia by running away from a bunch of goons. 

Today had not been one of Keith’s best days. 

_There hasn’t really been any good days lately, either,_ Keith thought sardonically.

“Keith?” Keith felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find Pidge in front of him, amber eyes filled with worry. 

_Don’t look at me like that,_ Keith wanted to say. _I’ve had enough of that look to last a lifetime._ Instead, he ducked his head, hiding behind his bangs. That never worked with Pidge though. 

“It’ll be fine,” they said. They sounded so sure of themselves, enough for the both them. Giving Keith’s shoulder a squeeze, Pidge withdrew their arm. “Don’t worry. She’s safe.” When Keith gave a nod of understanding, Pidge smiled. “Now, first plan of action: we need to figure out what this is,” they said, holding up the sphere so it was right underneath Keith’s nose. 

“This metal, if we could even call it that, is something I’ve never come across. So, it must be rare, and expensive. Which would obviously add to its worth,” Pidge mused.

Keith took it gently from Pidge. It was cool to the touch, smooth as polished glass. On a closer inspection, Keith found that the markings were carved into the metal, cutting deep into the surface to create wide arcs and circles. And in-between them all were even smaller, more delicate designs; strange circles and lines connected like made-up constellations.

“It could range from a bomb to a part of a bigger machine,” Pidge said. They’d started pacing in front of the fireplace, talking more to themselves than Keith. 

Keith ignored Pidge’s ramblings, knowing they weren’t directed at him. He had another look at the sphere. He traced the carvings carefully, feeling the grooves beneath his fingertips. He came upon one of the circles. He must have pressed a little too hard because it sunk into the sphere with a soft _click_. Keith startled. “What in the name of –” Intrigued, Keith prodded at a few more of the circles. Another one clicked into place. 

After a quick glance over his shoulder to check that Pidge was still occupied, Keith started pressing random buttons, grinning every time they clicked into place. It was like a puzzle. Keith just so happened to be excellent at puzzles. After a few more button pushes, Keith heard the quiet _whoosh_ of escaping air. The deep-cut arcs loosened, allowing Keith to twist the two halves on a pivot. Keith turned the top half until he heard another soft _click_. Two grooves aligned, allowing Keith to turn the other half in the opposite direction with one more satisfying _click_. All the buttons sunk in at once and the sphere erupted into a flash of purple light. 

“What the –” Pidge stopped their rambling in time to see the sweep of purple lights float up from the sphere in Keith’s hands. They both gasped as the room went dark, a grid ballooning out to touch the walls. Small violet dots popped up, covering every inch of available space. Keith and Pidge moved simultaneously towards the center of the room.

“What is this?” Pidge murmured.

Keith shrugged. “Add it to the list of ‘shit we don’t know’.”

Pidge glared at Keith before stepping up to one of the floating dots. They examined it closely before moving to the next. Keith looked up. The dots seemed endless, slowly circulating the room. There were some odd symbols here and there. Keith tried squinting to read them better but it was no use. It looked like complete gibberish. 

“It’s a map!” Pidge said, interrupting Keith’s thoughts. Keith huffed. “I was just going to say that.”

“Sure, Keith, whatever you – Wait!” Pidge squealed. They grabbed Keith’s arm and pulled him towards a dot floating in the center. “This is us! Planet Earth!” 

“How can you tell?” Keith asked, looking closely at the dot. It was slightly bigger than the rest, more an orb than anything.

“Because,” Pidge said, “unlike you, I know my constellations.” They pointed at a set of stars next to the orb. “There’s Orion’s belt, and Scorpius and the big dipper and –”

“Okay, I get it, you’re a child genius,” Keith said, deadpan.

Pidge smirked, adjusting their glasses as they took a closer look at the orb representing Earth. The violet light reflected in their glasses, mirroring the sphere perfectly. Keith took another look at the dots and spotted more orbs dancing about. Now that he thought about it, Keith could recognize the few planets he remembered learning about during his astrology classes back at the Garrison. 

Pidge reached up and tentatively tapped the orb. The violet light pulsed and the grid began to move. Planets and stars flew past them, leaving trails of light in their wake.

Pidge gasped. “That's the Magellanic Cloud!” they said as a clump of stars floated by. They dodged a spinning light, exclaiming that it was the Coral Galaxy. Keith didn’t react in time, the light bumping into his chest and exploding into a million particles before reforming behind him. As Pidge continued to point out certain stars and constellations, naming them two-and-fro – “Oh! That's the Cygnus Cross. And that's the Kerian Abyss!” – the dots slowly began to fade away, blinking out one at a time. Keith checked the sphere in his hand, wondering if it was malfunctioning, but the carvings were still glowing a deep purple.

“Wait. What's that?” Pidge asked. Keith looked up to find a large planet floating in the center of the room. It was encircled by two rings, one solid, the other wobblier, as if made up of millions of stipples. More unreadable symbols orbited the planet, indicating what could be co-ordinates. 

Keith knew that planet could recognize it in a heartbeat.

“That’s Treasure Planet,” Keith whispered to himself.

“No way,” Pidge said, disbelieving. 

“That’s Treasure Planet!” Keith said, louder, more certain.

The squiggly symbols faded away, leaving the planet to spin slowly on its axis. 

“No. Fucking. Way,” Pidge practically yelled. “Zacharn’s trove? The loot of a thousand worlds?” Keith only nodded. He couldn’t take his eyes off the planet.

“Do you know what this means?” Pidge asked.

“It means,” Keith said, twirling the sphere, the _map_ , in his hands. “That all that treasure is just a boat ride away.”

Pidge stared up at the planet, a gigantic grin Keith could only describe as pure evil on their face. “Whoever brings it back would have eternal bragging rights! No way those old farts in the science department could overlook me! I’d be the ultimate –”

Keith shut the map closed, causing the grid to disappear back into the sphere. 

“Hey,” Pidge grumbled. “I was giving an amazing egotistical speech just now. Weren’t you listening?”

“This is it,” Keith said, ignoring them. “This is the answer to all my problems!”

“What is?”

Keith and Pidge turned to find Colleen Holt in the entranceway. Her blue silk robe was loose, revealing her spotless white nightgown underneath. Her hair was ruffled from sleep. Pidge and her brother were exact copies of their mother; the same tawny brown hair, the inquisitive amber eyes and small stature. Mrs. Holt stood now with her arms crossed, a brow arched in question.

“Nothing,” Pidge and Keith said simultaneously. 

Mrs. Holt’s smile said she didn’t believe them for a second. 

“Well then,” she said, pushing off the doorway and starting towards them, “answer me this. What’s that in your hand, Keith?” 

Keith looked down at the map. He quickly placed it behind his back, but there was no point. Mrs. Holt had already seen it. 

“I, uh… I can explain, Mrs. Holt –”

Pidge said nothing, too busy nervously nibbling their bottom lip. They were unwilling to meet their mother’s gaze. However, when Mrs. Holt came to a stop in front of them, Keith could see she had a soft smile playing at her lips. She tilted her head, trying to catch Keith’s eye. 

“May I?” she asked, holding her hand out. Keith hesitated. Mrs. Holt stood, waiting patiently, her soft smile still in place. Keith placed the map gently in Mrs. Holt’s hand. She brought it close to her face, her reflection stretching across the surface. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure it out, taking in the sphere from all sides. Her method was almost identical to the way Pidge had first examined the map; like a magpie observing something shiny. 

“I’m guessing by your silence that this is a pretty big deal,” Mrs. Holt said, looking up to meet Keith’s eyes.

“Maybe,” Pidge mumbled. 

“How big?” Mrs. Holt asked, still looking at Keith.

“Big,” Keith said, keeping his answer vague.

“Does this big deal include space travel?” Mrs. Holt directed this question at Pidge.

“Well…” Pidge started, probably about to give a round-about answer when they finally locked eyes with their mother. They caved in. “Okay! We think it’s a map to what could may or may not be Treasure Planet and it’s honestly a big deal and if we promise to be safe can we please go?” Pidge gushed, their words tumbling out at lightning speed. 

Mrs. Holt narrowed her gaze. “Pidge –” she started.

“Mom, I don’t care about the treasure. Well, I mean, maybe a little bit, but do you know how much this could help Keith? How it could help Anathi?” Pidge pleaded. “Keith’s about to turn eighteen and you and I both know he needs to support himself. He’s too stubborn to let me help,” Pidge aimed this at Keith, pouting. It was true. Keith refused to accept charity, even if Pidge did have good intentions when they offered to help pay the first few months’ rent when he moved out of the inn. His birthday was in less than six months, meaning soon Ms. Raqa wouldn’t have to look after him anymore. He’d no longer be in foster care, but an adult who needed to support himself. And this was the answer, he knew it was.

“You know the stories, Mrs. Holt. All that treasure?” Keith offered up.

Mrs. Holt shook her head. “Pidge I understand, but I’d never think you of all people would go chasing a children’s story, Keith?”

Keith took a steadying breath. “This is a chance for me to help Ms. Raqa. After all I’ve done to make her life difficult, I can take away that burden. I can help her get the inn up and running properly. We can hire a real staff instead of her having to run herself ragged every day! It’s the least she deserves,” Keith said, tapering off at the end.

Mrs. Holt stammered, uncertain. “I – I don’t know Keith.” She turned her attention back to Pidge. “Pidge,” she said, using her authoritative mom voice, “be honest with me. Tell me this isn’t going to be some ridiculous venture.”

“Well, of course it’s ridiculous. But that’s what’ll make it fun!” Pidge said, unable to hold back a grin. “And, I mean, of course I’ll go with him. I could fund the whole thing from my savings!” Pidge was starting to buzz with excitement. “And I’ll commission a ship, hire a captain and a crew even!” 

Mrs. Holt sighed. “Pidge, you can’t be serious.”

“Mom, you know how long I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this!” Pidge whined. “The Garrison would never let me go on any trips, and Dad and Matt are always out on expeditions while I just sit here writing. And now here’s this – thing!” Pidge pointed at the map, still in their mother’s hand, “And it’s screaming for us, to go!” Pidge was now jumping up and down, having worked themselves up.

“Please, please, please mom! Please! I’ll do anything, I’ll –”

“Pidge!” Mrs. Holt yelled. Pidge froze, coming to a standstill. Mrs. Holt immediately recovered herself, smoothing down her hair. “I can see how excited you are about this. And Keith, I understand why you might think this is a good idea. But I just don’t see how this could work.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Holt,” Keith said. “Whether you give me permission or not, I’m still going to find a way to get to that planet.”

Mrs. Holt’s jaw went slack. Pidge’s was hanging down to the floor. They shook their head, making a cutting gesture at their neck. Keith ignored them.

“I know that I keep messing things up. And I know how much I’ve been letting Ms. Raqa down but… this is my chance to make it up to her. I’m going to set things right,” Keith said with conviction. He was going to see this through. He had to. 

“Mom,” Pidge said, gesturing for her to come talk to them. 

Mrs. Holt hesitated, sending Keith a look before obliging, ducking her head so she and Pidge could talk privately. Keith gave them some space. He walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window, scuffing his socked feet along the way. He leaned in closely, his breath fogging up the glass. He squinted through the dark. Sure enough, he spotted the flickering lights of The Red Lion Inn; a tiny little smudge in the distance. Directly above it, high in the sky, was the Garrison Space Port. It was the perfect replica of a crescent moon, glowing brighter than any star. Keith had always dreamed of going up there one day, to board a ship and travel as he pleased. At one point, he’d wanted to stow away on his father’s cargo ship, unwilling to spend another day being babysat by his elderly neighbour, Mrs. Greeves. (She was nice enough, although half the time her hearing aid would bug out, meaning Keith would have to play a game of charades just to ask for a cup of apple juice.)

Keith sighed, trying to come to terms with the fact that he might never get see the spaceport in person, to board a ship and get lost amongst the stars. Maybe it was all just make-believe. 

In the corner of his eye, Keith spotted Mrs. Holt’s head popping up. She shared a look with Pidge before turning to face Keith. 

“Keith,” she said, “I don’t want to see either you or Pidge get hurt.”

Keith cleared his throat, scratching at the hair on the nape of his neck. “I know. And I can’t promise that we wouldn’t. I just – I just want Ms. Raqa to be proud of me. Just once. You understand, right?”

Mrs. Holt sighed before sharing another look with Pidge. Pidge clasped their hands underneath their chin and batted their eyelashes, giving everything they got into their puppy-dog pout. 

Mrs. Holt nibbled on her bottom lip. For a moment, by the look in her eyes, Keith honestly thought she was going to say no. He ducked his head, already trying to plot a way to procure a long boat when a black blur flew through the air. Keith caught it on instinct, the map landing securely in his hands.

“Okay,” Mrs. Holt said. 

Pidge gasped and threw their hands in the air, yelling, “Yes! Oh my stars, yes!”

“But you have to promise me you’ll stay safe. And that you’ll look out for each other.” Mrs. Holt looked to Keith.

_Please, look after them._

Keith nodded. 

_Always._

“Alright!” Pidge yelled. “Wait till Matt hears about this! He’s going to be so jealous!” They came running at Keith, practically leaping into his arms. “We’re gonna travel through space! On a real ship!”

“Yeah,” Keith chuckled. He looked over Pidge’s shoulder to Mrs. Holt, who was smiling fondly at the two friends. Her eyes were crinkling in the corners, her dimples showing. 

Keith returned Pidge’s hug. 

It looked like they’d be heading to the spaceport after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm not super happy with this chapter. This one has been written and re-written the most out of all of the other chapters and in the end, I couldn't look at it any longer and I settled with this so if its a little clunky I'm sorry. I could probably say it word for word off the top of my head by now, that's how many times I've read this damn thing. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! This is the last little "build-up" chapter before we finally get the real adventure going. If you have any questions or queries, htm in the comments or leave me a message on my tumblr @subtlehysteria


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Pidge head to the Garrison Space Port, Pidge meets up with an old friend and Keith's non-existent patience gets tested.

As he walked out of the drop-off station, Keith was immediately blinded by a burst of sunlight, causing him to shield his eyes. People had warned him that the space port was susceptible to the sun’s light, due to its use of solar power (large quantities were needed in order to keep the port running at its required rate). When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, Keith was met with a sight he’d only ever dreamed of: The Garrison Space Port. Quays spread out for miles along the one edge of the port, creating a large arc that hung overhead. Pidge had tried to explain how the artificial gravity worked but Keith had given up after the mentioning of “quantifiable acceleration” or something like that. All that mattered was that he was here, he was actually here.

“Keith! Wait up!”

A loud clunking sound preceded Pidge as they hurried to Keith’s side.

Keith sighed looking over his shoulder to catch Pidge stumbling through the exit of the transportation pod.

Pidge had overpacked in the worse sense, as in willingly buying a space suit that was at least two centuries too old. It looked more like a diving suit with its clunky helmet and spacious pot-belly. The only modern thing about it was its gaudy green colour, which was apparently “in fashion”.

Pidge gripped onto Keith’s sleeve, trying to catch their breath.

“Isn’t this,” _wheeze_ , “exciting?”

“Riveting,” Keith said, chuckling before moving on down the platform. He got stuck behind a lady cradling what could only be described as a blow-dried rat in her arms. It was hideous, which is probably why she liked it so much.

“Keith! Wait! I can only go so fast!”

Keith ignored Pidge, pushing past the lady and her pet in a huff and rushing ahead. He wanted to see everything. He stood in the center of the port, watching as ships of all different sizes landed and took off. Some were old-fashioned, belonging to the middle-ages, others more modern, their wood a honey gold and the sails made of the newest solar canvas.

One particular ship caught Keith’s eye, a cherry-wood the size of the Red Lion. He remained rooted to the spot, in awe of its beauty, not caring about being jostled by the crowd. Like his hoverbike, the ship was built for speed. The crew was small, with only two masts, but that was part of the appeal. When you go on an adventure, you want as little ties as possible. Keith wanted that ship. And maybe, just maybe, after this voyage it could be a possibility.

“Keith!” Pidge yelled in his ear, startling him out of his reverie. He turned to find a pouting Pidge at his side. “Don’t ever leave me like that again! I got stuck between two Flatulents, do you know how compromising of a position that is?”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, trying to catch a final glimpse of his dream ship. “I’m just excited. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not, otherwise I’m leaving you behind,” Pidge said, crossing their arms, mouth set in a stern line. Keith could tell Pidge was peeved, but he couldn’t take them seriously while they were still in that suit.

“Whatever you say, dumpy,” Keith said, giving Pidge a consolatory pat on the head before shouldering through the crowd.

“Who are you calling dumpy?!” Pidge exclaimed, hurrying after Keith with a _click-clunk click-clunk._

 

***

 

After a lot of misdirection, Keith finally managed to find a kiosk station where a young Unilu girl pointed them in the right direction.

“It’s, like, the second berth to your right. You can’t miss it,” she drawled, one hand pointing vaguely in the right direction while the other three held what looked like a philosophy magazine. She turned a page idly, eyes never leaving the glossy pictures.

“Thanks,” Keith said, trying to keep his annoyance to a minimum.

“No problem,” she said, finally looking up. She met Keith’s eyes and dismissed him almost immediately. When she looked to Pidge, however, one thin eyebrow rose in interest.

“If you ever get lost,” the Unilu said, completely ignoring Keith, all eyes on Pidge, “you know where to find me.” She winked before turning back to her magazine.

Pidge spluttered. “I, uh, um, well, I mean, uh –”

Keith grabbed Pidge by the crook of their elbow, pulling them away from the kiosk. “We’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

“Way to go, Romeo,” he said with a snicker.

Pidge’s cheeks were strawberry pink, their voice stuttering. “Sh-she was just b-being nice.”

“Uh huh.”

As soon as they were far enough away and Pidge seemed to be functioning again, Keith let go and started quickening his pace. Pidge rushed after him, huffing and puffing. Keith sighed, averting his gaze when people gave them strange looks. He couldn’t help it; the suit was just… it was too much.

“It’s the suit, isn’t it,” Pidge said, raising their voice so they could be heard over the crowd. “I never should have listened to that pushy two-headed saleswoman. This one said it fit, that one said it was my colour, I just get so flustered! –”

Keith stopped in his tracks, about to ask Pidge to quiet down when they bumped into him. Keith had to steady them so they wouldn’t topple over. It would a mission and half to try and help them up in that suit.

Pidge lifted the visor of their helmet so they could adjust their glasses but stopped mid-way. They gasped, eyes widening to the size of saucers. Keith turned to see what they were looking at.

A large, opalescent ship with turquoise-blue trimming was floating in the quay. Its sails had yet to be unfurled, but Keith could tell they weren’t made of solar canvas. The material looked too smooth, almost like silk instead of the thick, rough linen most canvas was made of. Instead of the usual mermaid or goddess-like figure, a mighty lion was carved into the prow – his maw was open wide, baring his sharp canines, mane a wild tousle of curls. His claws were out as if he were about to pounce on an unsuspecting prey. Keith felt a shiver dance down his spine.  
Finally tearing his eyes away from the frightening lion, Keith perused the rest of the ship. It looked like a dream, resembling a castle more than a sailing ship. The underbelly was a pure white. It reminded Keith of the porcelain figurines Ms. Raqa collected: seamless, pristine, perfect. It made Keith’s cherry-wood look like a cheap wood carving.

“This is it,” Pidge said proudly, “That’s our ship, the Laith!”

“Woah,” Keith breathed.

He headed straight for the gangplank, Pidge’s suit clanking behind him.

As Keith stepped on to the ship, he did a full turn, soaking it in. He was here, on a real ship, about to go on an adventure he’d only ever read of in storybooks.

“Stow those casks forward!” someone bellowed, wrenching Keith out of his reverie. “Varkon, don’t think I can’t see you. Put down that sandwich and get to work!” Keith spotted a man in a slate black jacket who was yelling orders to the crew, taking slow turns around the deck.

“Keith!” Pidge whined as they finally caught up with him.

Keith gave a sly grin and a shrug. _Sorry, not sorry._

Pidge glared at him before turning their attention to the man in the black jacket. Their face instantly lit up.

“Mornin’ Captain,” they said, trying to catch the man’s attention. “Everything shipshape?” Keith had to try very hard not to face plant. He loved Pidge, he really did, but sometimes he felt the need to throttle them out of sheer embarrassment.

The man turned to face them. Keith was taken aback. The man was human, broad-chested with a wide square jaw and slanted eyes. A thick pink scar ran across the bridge of his nose and a white tuft of hair poked out from underneath his hat.

His eyes narrowed as he took the two teens in, then immediately widened in recognition.

“Katie?” he breathed.

“Shiro?” Pidge whispered, their voice muffled underneath their helmet

“Oh my stars, Katie!” the man rushed forward, enveloping Pidge in a bear hug. He managed to lift them up off their feet, suit and all.

“What the fuck, man!” Pidge yelled, returning Shiro’s hug with a tight squeeze.

“Still got a mouth on you, I see,” Shiro chuckled as he put Pidge down gently.

Pidge smirked. “Matt sends his love.” At the mention of the name, a tint of fondness softened the steely grey of Shiro’s eyes.

“How’s Matt doing?” Shiro asked.

“He’s great, on a trip with dad at the moment. They’re busy setting a station up on some new moon they discovered last year.”

Keith smiled to himself as he watched Pidge chatter away with Shiro. They looked happy, smiling a smile reserved only for their brother, Matt. Shiro and Matt were in the same year at the Garrison, apparently, both having both having graduated seven years prior. It would explain why Keith didn’t recognise him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were promoted to captain?” Pidge asked, giving Shiro a playful nudge.

“I wasn’t,” Shiro said. Keith expected a disappointed look. Being Captain of your own ship was the ultimate goal, and yet Shiro presented a genuine smile.

Pidge deflated a little. “Then, if you’re not the captain, who is?”

Shiro pointed upwards. Keith and Pidge followed his finger just in time to catch a figure flying from one mast to the next. They swung down from a rope, doing a somersault in the air before landing on the deck in a low crouch with ease. Keith thought the somersault was a little unnecessary but was impressed all the same.

“This is the captain,” Shiro said, sharing a look with Pidge.

The captain straightened up, fixing their jacket before turning to face them. They were, in fact, a woman. It wasn’t uncommon for a woman to captain a ship, however, within most professions, it was still a man’s world. Keith hummed in approval. She must really know her stuff if she was ranked captain, especially of such an impressive ship as the Laith.

Her silver-white hair was piled up in a bun atop her head, leaving her pink earrings free to glint in the early morning light. Her ears were pointed and pink markings decorated both cheeks, highlighting her impressive cheekbones. Her skin was tanned, setting off the crystal blue colour of her eyes. If Keith squinted he could see shots of pink around her irises. She was wearing a typical captain’s outfit: a white shirt and a sky-blue jacket with gold trim to match the colour scheme of her ship. Although, the thigh-length boots were something new. How she managed to walk around in those sky-high heels, Keith could not fathom.

“Shiro,” she said, although it sounded more like _shee-rhow_. Her accent was rather posh, making her words sound melodic. “I've checked Father’s ship from stem to stern, and, as usual, it is utter perfection. How do you do it?”

Shiro raised his hat, tilting his head in a small bow. “A magician never reveals his secrets, Captain.”

Their eyes met for a moment, a glint of _something_ shared before the captain turned her attention to Pidge.

“Ah, you must be Doctor Gunderson, if I’m not mistaken?” she asked.

“Uh, um –” Pidge stuttered, still a little star struck.

“Hello,” the captain called, tapping on the glass of Pidge’s helmet. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes! Can you stop that banging!” Pidge growled, coming to their senses. They tried to pull off their helmet, the key word being _tried_.

The captain examined Pidge’s suit. She had a playful look in her eyes. “Here, allow me.”

The captain slammed a fist on top of Pidge’s head. Keith heard a small rush as air and then the helmet released, popping off Pidge’s head. “There you go!” the captain said, pleased with her handiwork.

Pidge scrabbled to catch the fly-away helmet then tucked it under their arm. They rubbed their head, wincing when they felt a bump. “I think that was a little unnecessary,” they said with a not-so-subtle glower.

The captain only smiled. “I’m Captain Allura, daughter of Alfor and the last of the Alteans. Welcome to my father’s ship.”

Keith frowned. Altean. It tickled at his memory’s edge but he couldn’t place it.

Allura continued, “You've met my first officer, Takashi Shirogane, or Shiro, as he prefers.” There it was again, _shee-rhow_ , the name rolling off her tongue with ease. She smiled up at him. “A commendable First Mate, the best in the business, if I do say so myself. A natural leader. Genuine, strong, dependable, honest, brave, and true.”

“Please, Captain,” Shiro said, his cheeks beginning to flush.

“Oh, shush, Shiro. You know l don't mean a word of it,” Allura said, teasing.

Pidge cleared their throat. “Excuse me. l hate to interrupt… whatever this is but I think I should introduce Keith. He’s the one that actually found the treasure –”

Allura rushed to clamp a hand over Pidge’s mouth. Pidge huffed in protest.

“Doctor, please,” Allura hissed, looking to the side. Keith followed her line of sight and took a step back.

The crew members had stopped, listening intently to their conversation. Their neon-yellow eyes were all narrowed in interest.

 _Galra_ , Keith realized with a start, flitting his gaze from one purple figure to another. They’re all Galra.

A woman with blue-tinted skin caught Keith’s eye. She must have been of mixed heritage, seeing as she still had the customary blade-like protrusions slicing through her hairline. Her gaze was cold and calculating, navy lips pursed. Alongside her was another woman. She was tall with red-orange skin, a long appendage striped with greens, yellows and blues flowing from the top of her head. She had a playful smile but something in her eyes blared warning signs in Keith’s head.

Allura gave a light cough, tearing Keith’s attention away from the Galra. Her blue-pink eyes had hardened. There was no sign of the light-hearted humour from moments ago.

“I’d like a word with you in my stateroom,” she said.

It wasn’t a suggestion.

 

***

 

After sealing the door shut behind them, Allura turned to address Pidge.

“Doctor, to proclaim the whereabouts of a particularly rare treasure map in front of a group of Galra demonstrates a level of ineptitude that borders on the imbecilic,” she said. “And l mean that in a very caring way.”

Pidge’s eyebrows disappeared into their hairline. “Imbecilic?”

_Oh shit._

“Who are you to be calling –” Pidge started.

“May I see the map, please?” Allura said, ignoring Pidge and turning her focus to Keith. Pidge looked like steam was about to pour out of her ears. Keith glared at Allura but she appeared unfazed, holding her hand out, expectant. Her face was dead-set, almost severe.

Keith shared a look with Pidge, waiting for their go-ahead. They still looked ticked off, but, after a moment, they nodded their head, rolling their eyes for good measure. _Might as well._

“Here,” Keith said, taking the map out of his pocket and throwing it to Allura. She caught it without a flinch, still all seriousness. When she took a closer look at the map, however, she was unable to hide the captivation in her eyes.

“Fascinating,” she mused, an ear twitching almost like a cat’s. Just as quickly, the child-like fascination was gone, the stern-captain veneer fixed back into place. Sending a harsh look Keith’s way, Allura walked over to an ornate cabinet next to the entranceway, unlocking it with a key kept on a chain in her jacket pocket.

She took out a small chest and placed the map in it, closing the lid with a dramatic _clap!_ that Keith thought was a little unnecessary. The captain seemed to like her flare and fanfare.

“Mr. –” Allura started but halted at Keith’s last name.

“Just Keith,” he said.

“Keith,” Allura said, though she sounded a little dubious. “Whilst you are on my ship you will give me the respect that is due, even if you are an ex-cadet.”

Pidge let in a sharp intake of breath. Keith remained neutral.

“You will address me as Captain. Not Allura, or Missus. Captain. That is my ranking. Do I make myself clear?” She gripped the cabinet doors, waiting for a response.

Keith stayed silent.

“Keith?” Allura said, voice sharp as a knife. She wasn’t going to let this go.

“Yes… ma’am,” Keith said.

Allura hummed. “I’ll let that one slide,” she said, locking the cabinet. She turned swiftly on the spot to face them all. “Gentlemen and Doctor,” she said, nodding at Pidge. It looked like she got the message about Pidge’s preferred pronouns.

 _One thing she’s gotten right,_ Keith grumbled to himself.

“The map shall remain in my cabinet under lock and key unless in use,” Allura said, brandishing the cabinet key. One minute the key was in her hand, the next it had disappeared somewhere in her coat. Keith had to stop himself before he could ask her how she did it.

“Keith, if we are in need of the map, I will have Shiro escort you here and we will have you open the map for charting.”

Keith nodded. No one knew how to unlock the map except for Keith, much to Pidge’s disgruntlement. Keith had tried to teach them but no matter how many times they practised the pattern it never worked. It only seemed to want to open for Keith.

“And Doctor,” Allura said. She came face to face with Pidge, though she had to bend down considerably to do so, “with the greatest possible respect, zip your loud-mouth shut.”

All respect went right out the window.

Keith rolled up a sleeve. “Listen,” he started.

Allura swept up the tails of her coat before sitting primly in her desk chair, ignoring Keith all the while. “Look, let me make this as monosyllabic as possible,” she said. “I don't much care for this crew you hired, Doctor. It was very poor planning on your part seeing as I’d promised myself to never let another Galra touch this ship so long as I live. And yet here we are, Galra mucking up my ship and my sacred vow sitting in my lap in shambles.” She spread her hands across the desktop, indicating the invisible pieces of broken vow.

“And besides that,” she continued, “they're...how did l describe them, Shiro? l said something rather good this morning before coffee.”

“‘A ludicrous parcel of drivelling galoots,’ Captain,” Shiro offered, keeping a straight face.

“There you go, poetry,” Allura said, giving a smug smile.

Keith grit his teeth, about to give this snotty princess a piece of his mind when Allura shushed him. “Keith, I’d love to chat. Tea, cake, the whole shebang but I have a ship to launch and you have an ego to tame.”

Keith growled.

“Shiro, please escort these two neophytes down to the galley straightaway. Keith should be introduced to Hunk and Lance as soon as possible, seeing as he will be sharing cabin duties.”

“What?” Keith spluttered, anger forgotten. “I – there’s no… you can’t –”

Allura gave him a small smile that was anything but friendly before dismissing them. Keith was about to protest when Shiro took him by the elbow, gently leading him out of the stateroom. Pidge followed suit, still sulking as they muttered under their breath.

Keith struggled in Shiro’s grasp. Loose as it was, he didn’t appreciate the manhandling. Plus, he was scared his jacket might rip. He made a grab for Shiro’s hand, about to pry it off his arm when he spotted the glint of metal.

On closer inspection, Keith found sheets of silver and black twisting into a perfect replica of a human hand. It was so seamless, he hadn’t even noticed until now.

_Beware the cyborg..._

Keith looked over his shoulder, trying to catch Pidge’s attention. They were too busy sulking to notice.

“Whilst you two are here, I expect you to behave,” Shiro said. “I’m looking at you Pidge.”

Pidge stopped their grumbling but continued to stomp loudly in frustration.

“And Keith,” Shiro said, aiming a stern look Keith’s way, “please put in a little effort when it comes to your temper. Hopefully working for your share will teach you a little something about respect.” Done with his commander-spiel, Shiro let go of Keith’s elbow.

Keith ground his teeth, rolling back his shoulders.

“First Mate my ass,” he grumbled.

There was no way he was following orders from some Garrison golden boy. And he was most definitely not playing cabin boy.

 

***

 

“Who does she think she is!” Pidge grumbled. They had walked a little ways ahead of Shiro, ignoring him profusely when they realised he wasn’t going to drop the First Mate act. Instead, Pidge chose to take their anger out on the stairs to the galley, kicking and stomping at the strange white surface as they went. The galley was where the kitchen and dining room was for all the crew members, excluding the captain and Shiro, who’d be taking their meals in their private quarters.

“I’m the one paying for all this, and yet there she is, talking to me like I’m some little kid! I’m seventeen, I have rights!” Pidge continued, waving their arms about. Keith could see their glasses starting to steam up.

“It’s my map,” he grumbled, “and she’s gonna have me bussing tables –”

Suddenly, a huge hand clapped Keith on the shoulder.

“I'll not tolerate slander against our captain. There's no finer officer in this or any galaxy,” Shiro said. His face was stony, but there was something in his tone… it almost sounded like affection.

Pidge perked up suddenly.

“You like her,” they said.

Shiro sputtered, all authoritativeness falling away. “She’s my captain, of course I like her. She’s very admirable.”

Pidge shook their head, a mischievous grin on their face. “You _liiiiike_ her.”

“Hunk!” Shiro said, turning their attention away from him and towards the kitchen.

The lighting was surprisingly good down here with the help of the portholes along with light fixtures running alongside either wall. They shone a bright blue, creating a calm atmosphere.

Keith heard the rattle of pots and pans. He looked to the kitchen where a large man with shaggy brown hair appeared from underneath a counter. His sleeves were rolled up well past his elbows, revealing bold tattoos decorating both forearms. They swirled, geometric designs mixed with delicate details. (Keith instantly wanted to take a closer look but figured it would probably be rude to grab a stranger’s arm and stare at it.) The man smiled at them as he tied his fringe back with an orange strip of material.

“Hey, Shiro. Oh, if I knew we were having guests, I would have tidied up a bit,” the man flushed. He wiped his palms clean on his apron before extending a hand. “I’m Hunk, the cook.”

“This is Pidge, our financier,” Shiro said, giving Pidge a little nudge forward. They stumbled, shooting a glare back at Shiro before facing Hunk. They took his hand.

“Hey.”

“Pidge? As in Pidge Gunderson? _Doctor Pidge Gunderson_?” Hunk said, his voice rising in pitch.

“Uh, yeah,” Pidge said, uncertain.

“I’m such a huge fan!” Hunk said, shaking Pidge’s hand enthusiastically. “I read your miniature essay on the Deviation of Gravitational Force and I totally agree!”

“You read my essay?” Pidge said, sounding surprised.

“Yeah! I’ve read all your stuff like ten times at least. Your theorems are practically flawless!” Hunk gushed. He looked down at their clasped hands in wonder before clearing his throat. He released Pidge’s hand, albeit reluctantly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Pidge said, adjusting their glasses. It was a nervous habit, but it didn’t hide their satisfied smile. _They’re in enjoying this_ , Keith realised. A glance up at Shiro confirmed that he wasn’t the only one who picked up on it. Shiro was shaking his head, a fond smile taking over his face. He really did seem to care about them, so how could he possibly be the cyborg Thace was –

“Oh, and this is Keith,” Pidge said, pointing at Keith over their shoulder.

“Hey Keith,” Hunk said, nodding in acknowledgement.

“Hey,” Keith said, not really meeting his eyes. Hunk gave a soft smile before returning to his conversation with Pidge. He seemed nice enough, Keith guessed, with how he was treating Pidge and everything. Maybe working with him wouldn’t be so bad.

“Where’s Lance?” Shiro asked, interrupting Hunk’s speech about the use of contemporary notations in theory papers.

Hunk blinked. Rubbing the back of his neck, he laughed nervously. “Last I heard he was trailing after one of the new crew members. Nyma, I think?”

Keith could practically feel Shiro’s eyes rolling.

“Make sure that doesn’t become a problem,” Shiro said.

“I’ll try, but there’s only so much I can do,” Hunk said with a shrug.

Shiro sighed before turning to Keith. “You’ll be working with Hunk and Lance, helping in the kitchen as well as cleaning. I recommend listening to Hunk and staying clear of Lance if you want to last longer than a week.”

“Don’t worry, Shiro,” Hunk chuckled, “I’m pretty sure Keith can handle himself.”

Keith raised a brow at that but didn’t argue. It seemed Hunk was more perceptive than he let on.

Shiro sighed again, longer and louder, more like an older brother who must clean up his sibling’s mess. “I best go check that Lance is behaving himself. The launch is going to start soon. Pidge, do you want to come check it out?”

“Does an active galactic nucleus have superluminal jets?” Pidge replied.

Everyone went silent.

_Enter the crickets sound effect…_

“HA!”

Keith immediately jumped into a fighting stance, his hand hovering where he kept his knife strapped to his belt. Only when he looked for the source of the noise he found Hunk, clutching his bellow and bent over double with laughter.

“Oh man!” Hunk wheezed, clutching his belly, “Oh, that’s a good one!”

“I like him,” Pidge said, pointing at Hunk over their shoulder before starting up the stairs.

Keith was about to follow them when an arm shot out and blocked his path.

“Not so fast,” Shiro said. “I want you to stay here and start getting an idea of what’ll be expected of you.” Shiro shared a knowing look with Keith. “And remember what we talked about.” With a final nod to Hunk, Shiro began climbing up the stairs, regal, like a king ascending his throne. Pidge followed him, giving one backwards glance before disappearing up the stairs as well.

“Don’t mind Shiro,” Hunk said, turning back to his task in the kitchen. He seemed to be halfway through preparing a meal. Multiple pots sat on the stove, whistling and bubbling, all vying for his attention. Hunk picked up a knife and started chopping up vegetables.

Keith did a slow three-sixty, taking in his workspace for the next six months. The dining room had a normal set up; tables with benches that seated six was spread evenly on either side of the room whilst leaving enough walking space down the center. The only difference was that everything was white. The surfaces were all smooth and clean, unlike any ship interior Keith had ever read about in his textbooks. The kitchen was at the end of the room, melding into the curve that was the butt of the ship. A large stove was in the center, with counters all around the edges. Again, spotless, almost blindingly white. Different fruits were set up in jars on shelves, while dried meat hung on hooks. There was an entire wall dedicated to cutting knives and other utensils Keith had never seen before. This was a whole other set up compared to the Red Lion’s kitchen.

“He’s pretty serious for someone so young. He’s only twenty or something, right?” Keith asked, edging towards the kitchen.

“Twenty-five to be exact. But apparently, he’s always been like that,” Hunk said absentmindedly. Having finished chopping the last of the vegetables, Hunk moved on to what looked like a clump of crustaceans, though Keith couldn’t be sure.

“I don’t know about that,” Keith said, ruffling around in a barrel blindly until he found what looked like a ripe fruit. It was violet, the colour of Ms. Raqa’s eyes.

She’d been hesitant about this trip, even more so than Mrs. Holt.

_“Just try not to get into too much trouble,” she said, giving Keith a bone-crushing hug._

_“You know I can’t promise that,” Keith said._

_“I know.”_

Keith shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He clutched the violet fruit, feeling the smooth skin under his thumb.

“Do you mind if I? –” he started.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Hunk said. “Just try and ration ‘em. They go quickly.”

“Thanks,” Keith said, before taking a bite. It tasted just like a plum.

Keith jumped up onto an empty counter, staying clear of Hunk’s work space. Keith needed to stay on his good side if he was going to survive these next few months.

“You know,” Keith started, taking another bite of the not-plum, “these fruits –”

“Lumins.”

“What?”

“They’re called lumins,” Hunk said, chopping off the tail of… something.

“Right,” Keith said, averting his eyes from the chopping board. “Well, they remind me of plums. You know, the ones on Earth.”

“You think so?” Hunk asked, his interest piqued.

“Yeah,” Keith continued, “they grow all over the place near the Red Lion Inn, where I live. I used to pick them when I was younger.”

“Oh, that’s the best! I really want my own orchard when I finally get to settle back on Earth.”

Keith stopped. “You’re from there?”

“Well,” Hunk said, turning to face Keith. He gestured to himself. He looked human enough, sporting ten fingers, slightly-too-small ears and clever brown eyes, and besides, it was rare for humans to sprout anywhere else than Earth. Most species stuck to their own planets, although the Red Lion acted as a kind of half-way house for tourists and travellers of all species.

Keith rolled with Hunk’s little snippet of information.

“So, you’ve been around?”

Hunk shrugged. “I’ve worked on a few cargo ships before the Laith. So, you could say that, yeah.”

“Then you might have heard of this guy I met, he was Galra.”

“Galra?” Hunk startled, dropping his knife. He hastily picked it up, wiping it off on his apron. “You willingly befriended a Galran?”

Keith shrugged. “I don’t judge.”

Hunk’s eyes bulged. Keith didn’t blame him. The Galra were not favoured after their uprising over a hundred years ago. They’d managed to ensnare more than half the galaxy before they were taken down by a rebel coalition, although a lot of damage was left in the Galra’s wake. Their bad reputation was officially sealed when they began to wipe out entire planets during their short reign of power. Now, the Galra race was beginning to dwindle, having lost their planet during the war, and what little populace was left was looked down upon. If you were Galra, you were considered the lowest of the low, dangerous and untrustworthy. Hunk’s reaction wasn’t a surprise, but Keith would just have to work with what he had.

“Uh, well, I don’t judge either,” Hunk said, turning back to his task at the chopping board.

“The thing is,” Keith continued, treading carefully, “he was looking for a friend of his. A cyborg.”

“Okay…” Hunk said, sounding unsure of where Keith was going with this.

Keith knew exactly though.

“Yeah. Now, what was that Galran’s name again?” Keith paused for dramatic effect, tapping at his chin in thought before saying, “Oh right. Thace. Thace, you ever heard of him?”

“Thaaace,” Hunk said, dragging out the _a_. The name was clumsy on his tongue, unfamiliar. He shook his head. “Yeah, sorry, Keith, it doesn’t ring any bells.” Finished de-shelling the crustaceans, Hunk moved to the stove in the center of the kitchen, chucking first the vegetables and then the fish into a big broiling pot. Some of the broth splashed onto the counter, sizzling instantly from the heat.

“Can’t really say I’ve ever met a cyborg, actually. They’re kinda rare,” Hunk said, more to himself.

Keith was about to interject when a whistle blew on-deck. Keith heard Shiro’s voice loud and clear as he yelled, “Prepare to cast off!”

“Why don’t you go watch?” Hunk said, sounding relieved with the change in subject. “I’ve still got the stew to finish. I want it to be perfect, seeing as it’s your and Pidge’s first flight. Do you know if they like herzoffen stew?” Hunk asked, face open and earnest. He was really set on impressing Pidge.

“I don’t know actually. They usually eat anything you put in front of them,” Keith said as he jumped off the counter. “Except peanuts,” he added as an afterthought. “They hate peanuts. But not peanut butter. They’re weird like that.”

He polished off his not-plum before chucking it in what looked like a waste barrel. “I’ll see you around, Hunk,” Keith said as he made his way up the stairs.

“See ya,” Hunk said, already turning back to his stew.

Keith dug his hands deep into his pockets. Frustrated, he blew his bangs to the side. It looked like he’d need to do a lot more snooping before he got some answers.

 

***

 

“We’re set to go captain!” someone yelled from above. Keith looked up to see a purple smudge up in the crow’s nest, spyglass in hand.

“Well, Shiro, are we ready to raise the Laith?” Allura had appeared from her stateroom, a blue hat to match her jacket now atop her head. Not a wisp of a hair was out of place. Keith sent a not-so-subtle glare her way.

“My pleasure, Captain,” Shiro returned. He was standing to Allura’s right, hands behind his back, feet planted firmly. He looked as if he belonged there, alongside Allura at the helm of a ship.

“All hands to stations!” Shiro bellowed. The crew immediately went into action. Some stayed put on the deck, checking ropes whilst the nimbler members climbed up the rigging of the fore, main and mizzen masts. The red-orange woman from before practically danced up the masts, humming to herself as she reached the top in two seconds flat. The rest of the crew grabbed onto ropes and waited for their next order.

“Loose all sails!” Shiro commanded.

The crew did as they were told, slowly unfurling the sails. Keith watched as the canvas unveiled itself as if someone were flicking a scroll open. He was jostled forward as two crew members pulled back on a rope. They grunted at him, giving him foul looks as they continued with their task. Keith returned the look.

Keith started further down the deck to move out of the way of the Galra when he felt a deep vibration underneath his feet. The deck began to shake. Keith felt his stomach sinking as the ship slowly rose into the air. Keith wobbled to the bannister, minding the crew members as they worked pulleys and fastened ropes. Peeking over the edge, Keith saw the spaceport become smaller and smaller as they climbed through the air. Small dots moved about on the cobbled streets, oblivious to Keith’s racing heart.

He looked up at the sails once more. They caught on the wind, puffing out in huge plumes of white. With solar sails, the panels were woven in with the canvas, allowing the sunlight to be harvested and directed down the masts to the engine room. Keith waited for the sails to turn gold, just like they did when he took his solar surfer out for a ride. However, as the sails touched the sunlight, instead of the panels shining gold they turned a deep turquoise blue. It was like a silk handkerchief had been dunked in a bottle of blue dye.

Keith’s jaw dropped. He turned back to Allura to warn her but she appeared unfazed, talking to Shiro idly.

Keith scrubbed his eyes, thinking maybe he was just seeing things but, no, the sails were still that blaring shade of blue.

Frustrated, Keith raced to the mainsail, watching as the power lights switched on one after the other. As he expected, instead of a sunny gold, blue dashes disappeared down below deck to the engine room.

 _This is crazy,_ Keith thought. All his toy models and the designs at the Garrison had shown how sunlight was harvested and converted into energy, as in bright yellow light kind of energy. Either Keith had missed a chapter or something was very, very wrong.

Keith looked back and spotted Pidge up on the quarter-deck along with Allura and Shiro. Their eyes were as large as saucers, their mouth parted in awe. They were eating this up. Keith could practically hear their mind whirring as they tried to figure out the logistics. He was about to call out to them when he felt his feet lift off the deck. Keith scrambled a moment, trying to find his balance. He was floating mid-air.

Keith racked his brains, searching for long-lost information. Nothing came to mind.

“We’ve breached the atmosphere!” Pidge yelled, catching Keith’s attention. Somehow, they’d managed to float upside down, their hair fanning out as if they were underwater.

Allura and Shiro were unaffected by the loss of gravity, standing (or rather, floating) rod-straight with their chins held high. Obviously, this wasn’t their first rodeo.

“Mr. Varkon,” Allura called, addressing a squat purple Galran with bat ears and leathery skin. “Engage artificial gravity.”

“Sir, yes sir!” he said, giving an over-the-top salute before pulling down a lever.

Keith fell, landing with a crouch on the deck. Allura and Shiro landed without fault, whereas Pidge ended up face-down on the deck. Allura didn’t even spare them a glance as she spoke to the man behind the wheel. Keith was about to rush to Pidge’s aid when he spotted the aeronaut. He did a double take when he realised the man wasn’t Galran. Keith didn’t actually know what species he was. He was tall and wiry, with light purple skin and plum purple speckles on his upper arms. His nose was long and pointed, white hair sticking out from underneath an aviator hat. He had a gold hoop earring in either lobe. Apart from the nose, he was rather handsome. Keith shook his head in admonishment.

_Don’t flirt, help Pidge._

Keith ran up the stairs to the bridge, offering a hand to Pidge.

“Took you long enough,” they snarked, shaking out their arms and legs. “Are there supposed to be two of you?” they mumbled, adjusting their glasses as they squinted at Keith. Keith patted them on the shoulder.

“South by south-west, Rolo, heading two one zero zero,” Allura called.

“Aye captain, two one zero zero,” Rolo responded, turning the wheel. He sounded bored as if a ship launch was just a trivial thing.

Allura turned to Shiro, addressing him with the utmost pomp. “Full speed ahead, if you please, Shiro.”

Shiro leaned down to speak into a silver receiver that led below deck. “Take her away!” he said. Keith guessed he must have been talking to the engine worker down below. The engine came to life. Keith could feel the rumbling of the boosters below his feet. They were practically purring.

Allura turned to Pidge with a smirk. “Brace yourself, Doctor,” she said.

Pidge grumbled under their breath, mimicking Allura’s words with an exaggerated face.

Keith rolled his eyes.

_Very mature._

The purr of the engine began to escalate until it became a loud roar. Without warning,  
the ship surged forwards at an immense speed. Keith managed to grip onto the bannister at the last minute but Pidge wasn’t as lucky. They flew back from the force, knocking into the wall behind them. A few springs came loose, a panel falling off their suit. Keith winced with sympathy pain.

The ship flew up and away, the last vestiges of the spaceport shrinking in the distance. Keith looked at Pidge, checking if they were still in one piece. They were rubbing the back of their head and muttering under their breath. Allura offered a hand which Pidge smacked away. Allura only laughed. They were fine, just a little hurt pride. Keith would be hearing all about it tonight, but for now, he could go enjoy the view.

He jumped down all the stairs in one go, grabbing ahold of the nearest net. As he climbed up the rigging, Keith stole another glance at the sails. They were pulsing with neon light. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. He made a note to ask Hunk about it later. Maybe Pidge could weasel some answers out of him even – it was a talent they flaunted ceaselessly.

Keith stopped thinking however when he turned his attention out beyond the ship. The wind brushed his bangs aside, cool air dusting his nose and cheeks. The trip to the Garrison Space Port had been uneventful. There were no windows in the small transportation pod, meaning Keith was left sitting in semi-darkness for nearly three hours. But this, this was something else entirely. Space wasn’t just black with a few pin-prick stars. Space was a mix of rich purples, blues, greens and reds. It was trillions upon trillions of stars all shapes and sizes. It was clouds of swirling oranges and scarlets. It was the feeling of flying a solar surfer and racing with a hoverbike only tenfold.

A shadow enshrouded Keith. He looked up in time to see a Bezaor soar above him. They were like earth’s stingrays, with leathery skin and a tail that conducted the same amount of electricity as a lightning bolt. An entire school of them surrounded the ship, squawking as they wove between the masts. One of the crew members managed to bump into a Bezaor head on, getting stung in the process.

“You Snoogle with wings!” he shrieked, “Get the hell out of here!” A few of the other crew members sniggered at their colleague’s misfortune.

Pidge pulled Keith’s attention away from the crew’s antics with the exclamation: “Holy fuck! A Weblum!”

Keith turned to where they were pointing and spotted what looked like a gigantic blue caterpillar slowly crawling its way through space. It had three moss-green eyes on either side of its head and was covered in lumps and bumps. It was hideous.

Pidge, having moved a little higher onto the upper deck, pressed a button on their suit. A camera popped out from a hidden compartment. They leaned over as far as they dared, zooming in on the Weblum as it passed the ship.

“Wait till Matt gets a load of this!” they said.

“Uh, Doctor,” Allura started, “I’d stand clear –”

The Weblum squirted an entire waterfall’s worth of green sludge from its blowhole, drenching Pidge entirely. Their camera snapped, a flash going off. The picture developed just in time for a glob of sludge to drip onto it. Pidge groaned in exasperation.

Rolo chuckled, saying something about stupid kids when Shiro slapped him upside the head.

“Eyes forward, Rolo,” he said but not before sharing a small smile with Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know the name of the ship... I mean, how could I not? Anyway, almost all the gang is here except for a certain lean, mean flirting machine. We'll meet up with him in the next chapter, promise!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith meets up with an old classmate and makes some new 'friends' while he's at it.

Having one last look in the hallway mirror, Lance ruffled his hair. He was going for the devil-may-care look, something that said he was easy going but still cared about his appearance. Which he did. Straightening his blue shirt and checking one last time for any blemishes, Lance walked out the door and towards the main deck. He was looking for one exceptionally pretty girl in particular.

He spotted her easily; the beautiful vision that was Nyma. She was a perfect reverse of the Galra, with dark purple eyes and creamy yellow skin. Her hair was pulled back into four sections, showing off her slim neck and shoulders. She was breathtaking, to say the least,

Putting on his most charming smile, Lance swaggered up to Nyma.

“Hey there,” he said, leaning nonchalantly on the bannister

Nyma spared Lance a quick look before turning back to her task. She was busy securing some loose ropes by the looks of things. Not too important then.

“Now that the launch is over, what’s say you and me take a little tour of the ship?”

Nyma continued with her task, not even looking at Lance when she said, “As pleasing at that sounds, I have work to do.”

Lance’s shoulders slumped. This was a perfect opportunity for some alone time and Nyma was going to choose work? Over _him_?

Nyma finished tying off the last of her ropes before facing Lance. “Sorry sweet cheeks. Maybe later?” With that, she gave a sly wink and turned on her heel. Her hips swayed as she sashayed away.

Lance sighed dreamily. “Oh yeah, she digs me.”

_Take that, Shiro._

“Doctor, I’d recommend extracting yourself from that hunk of metal and maybe taking a bath? Just a thought.”

Lance turned on the spot to find Captain Allura speaking to a kid in a metal death trap. They were covered in Weblum sludge. Obviously, they didn’t know the drill.

They were fuming as they stormed off, Shiro trailing behind them.

_Perfect._

“Well good morning, Allura!” Lance called out, trying to catch Allura’s attention. She was looking extra spectacular today in a blue coat and thigh-high boots.

“That's Captain to you, Lance,” she replied, keeping her eye out on the horizon.

This was usual for them. Lance had started out as a cabin boy for the Laith just over two months ago, never suspecting how striking his captain would be. He’d stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, her silver hair flowing in the morning breeze, eyes alight with intrigue. She was unafraid of voicing her opinion; braver than any captain Lance had heard of from his father’s tales. To be able to work with her was a privilege. The opportunity to flirt with her even more so.

Lance grinned, prepping himself for his next move. “The Universe must revolve around you because your gravitational forces are pullin’ me in.”

Allura rolled her eyes.

“You can keep that kind of flim-flammery for your spaceport floozies, Lance.”

Lance gasped, clutching at his chest in mock-hurt. “Why Allura, you wound me! Can I not give my beautiful, out of this world captain a compliment.”

Allura did not look impressed, turning her attention to the other side of the ship. Her eyes narrowed.

“Lance,” she started, her voice sweet and soft.

“Yes, Captain?” Lance returned, stepping a little closer, grin broadening.

“Would you mind telling me why your fellow cabin boy is busy aimlessly footling about in those shrouds?”

That was not where Lance thought this conversation was going.

Lance followed Allura’s line of sight to spot a dark-haired boy, probably around his age, climbing about on the rigging. For a moment, Lance saw himself. His first launch had been heart-stopping, something he never thought he’d get to experience. He’d clung to the rigging as long as he possibly could, drinking in the sight of space, _actual space_ , a sight all of his teachers had said he’d never have the privilege of seeing. He’d grinned like an idiot, could only imagine their faces if they were to see him then, with the wind in his hair and the galaxy his backdrop.

“Seeing as neither Hunk nor Shiro is around,” Allura said, “I’ll put you in charge of getting him started on his chores.”

“Huh?” Lance said, tearing his eyes away from the boy.

“You heard me, Lance, I’m not going to repeat myself. Get to it,” Allura said. Lance opened his mouth, about to argue but Allura silenced him with a look. “And if I see anything even remotely out of order,” she continued, “you will hear from me personally.”

“Is that a promise?” Lance said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Allura started counting to three. Lance was hightailing it before she’d even finished saying one.

First Nyma, and now Allura.

 _Guess I’m a little rusty,_ Lance thought as he stopped behind the boy on the rigging.

On closer inspection, he could see the boy was wearing a red jacket, his hair cut long at the nape of his neck. His shoes were clunky, more for industrial work than sailing, and his trousers were two sizes too big, a belt having to cinch them at his slim waist. He looked sure of himself as he climbed about the rigging, trying to get a better view of the stars.

“Hey!” Lance called.

No response.

“Hey! Hey, mullet head!” Lance yelled.

That got his attention.

The boy turned, searching along the deck before locking eyes with Lance.

Lance’s breath halted. He’d know those grey eyes anywhere.

“Keith?” He sputtered. 

 

***

 

“Keith?”

Keith had locked eyes with a young man, perhaps around his age, though he was thinner and slightly taller by the looks of him. He was tanned, probably from spending too much time in the sun, with a long face. His chin was as sharp as Keith’s dagger.

“Should I know you?” Keith asked, arching a brow.

“Uh, the name’s Lance?” The boy cocked his head, waiting for a response.

Ah, so this was the infamous Lance. Keith sized him up. There wasn’t much to look at. Why such a scrawny stick would be the cause of so much gossip, Keith didn’t know. He wasn’t eager to find out either.

“We were in the same year at the Garrison?” Lance prompted.

_Huh._

Keith scratched his head, trying to think back. His time at the Garrison was in the past, something he wasn’t willing to dig up. Though Lance appeared expectant.

Keith decided to wing it.

“Really? Were you an engineer or something?”

“No, I studied to be a pilot! We were rivals, you know, Lance and Keith, neck and neck…” Lance trailed off.

Keith shook his head. The name still didn’t ring any bells.

Lance frowned. He did not look impressed.

Keith smirked.

Lance’s mouth opened wide as if about to say something when he clamped it shut. He then cleared his throat and recollected himself, a friendly smile plastered across his face. “Well, _Keith_. I’ve got two friends I’d like you to meet.” Lance walked around the main mast, disappearing for a moment, then just as quickly reappeared with his hands behind his back.

Keith looked about the deck, though he didn’t spot anybody nearby. Maybe Lance meant Hunk, although he’d already met him. He was about to say as much when Lance chucked something at him. Keith caught it on instinct. It was a mop.

“Say hello to Mr. Mop,” Lance said, “and Mrs. Bucket.”

Lance threw a bucket, aiming it straight for Keith’s face. Keith dodged it, grabbing onto the handle with his free hand.

Keith glared at Lance, who was smiling at him smugly.

“And what, pray tell, am I supposed to do with these?”

“Swab the deck, obviously,” Lance said.

“And why am I having to swab the deck when you’re the cabin boy?” Keith said, wanting to provoke Lance. He got his wish.

“Hey, listen,” Lance said, bristling, “from now on, you’re a cabin boy too, the second one at that. Which means you’re under my charge. So, when I give you task I expect you to do it, Mullet.”

“And what if I refuse?”

“Be my guest, but I’m not the one who's gonna break the news to our lovely captain,” Lance said, a cocky grin spreading from ear to ear.

_Dammit._

“Now,” Lance said, satisfied with Keith’s silence, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off.” Giving a low bow, Lance turned on his heel.

“So you’re just gonna leave me to do your chores?” Keith called out.

Lance turned, walking backwards to address Keith. “I’ve got some work to do in the galley. And unlike some people, my job is actually of worth.” Before Keith could respond, Lance swaggered off, skipping down the galley steps two at a time.

 

***

 

Keith was busy swabbing the deck, albeit reluctantly. In true Pidge fashion, he’d started grumbling under his breath, stringing the worst words he could think of followed by a certain skinny-ass’s name.

“Mr. Mop my ass,” he muttered, swirling the head of the mop on the deck and imagining it was Lance’s face instead. That was one way to pass the time.

Suddenly, someone knocked into his side Keith stumbled into the rigging, barely missing overturning the bucket. He looked up in time to see one of the larger crew members glaring down at him. She was big, as in could take on a squadron of cops and win. When she bore her teeth at him Keith saw razor-sharp incisors.

“Watch it, ant,” she growled, before stomping away.

Keith bit back his tongue. He had trained himself to fight, but taking on someone nearly triple his size would be suicide, especially considering that she was part Galran (if those ears and dazzling personality were anything to go by). Although, at this point, anything would be better than getting to know Mrs. Bucket on a personal level.

Keith carried on swirling the mop around the deck, not really caring that he’d been in the same spot for over twenty minutes. He was dipping Mr. Mop into Mrs. Bucket when he heard a murmuring. Keith spotted a few of the crew members huddled around a barrel, whispering to one another. One caught Keith’s eye and immediately stopped his chatter. He slapped his buddy on the arm, grabbing his attention. They all piped down after that.

“What are you looking at, mutt?” one of them grumbled.

A stocky little Galran Keith hadn’t even noticed jumped up on the barrel, grinning devilishly. “Yeah, mutt! Want a piece of this?” he exclaimed, thumping his chest. Keith was about ready to give the little creep a piece of his mind when a heavy weight settled on his shoulder.

Keith felt hot breath brush his ear as a voice said, “Now, now, Morvok, that isn’t any way to treat our new cabin boy. Isn’t that right, Keith?”

Keith jerked around to come face to face with a grinning Galran.

He was, admittedly, handsome, and he knew it. His face was perfectly symmetrical, a sharp jawline coupled with a straight-bridged nose. His irises were a luminescent purple, unlike the rest of the pure-blood Galra. His hair was blindingly white.

Keith took a steadying breath and schooled his features. “Why, got something to hide, princess?”

The Galran’s eyes narrowed into slits.

Wrapping a tight grip around Keith’s neck, the Galran hoisted Keith off his feet. It was as if he weighed nothing.

“Perhaps you need a little disciplinary hearing,” he hissed.

Keith gasped for quick gulps of air, just managing to splutter out, “And perhaps you need a breath mint.”

“Why you impudent little –” the Galran slammed Keith against the main mast. Keith twisted and turned, struggling as the Galran tightened his grip on Keith’s neck.

The rest of the crew weren’t much help, egging the Galran on. The large woman from before was grinning, pounding her fist into her hand as if she were preparing for a fight. The shortie from before was whooping, throwing a few punches in the air.

“Any last words, cabin boy?” the Galran asked, brandishing a dagger and pressing it against Keith’s jugular. A blue symbol glowed on the handle.

 _Wait_ –

A hand came into Keith’s line of sight, grabbing at the Galra’s arm and forcing it down.

“Lotor,” a voice murmured, low and threatening. Keith looked past Lotor’s shock of white hair to find a Galran almost double his size. His ears were round and fluffy, it reminded Keith of an animal he saw in a picture book once, a koala perhaps. Instead of soft sleepy eyes, though, a large red dot shone from the Galra’s eye socket. A cybernetic eye, Keith realised.

Keith took in the Galran from head to toe. He wore a white shirt with an open collar, showing off a broad chest, along with black breeches and boots to match. His purple fur was cut short, except for around his ears, making them fluffy and almost touchable. Almost. What was most eye-catching was his prosthetic left arm. This prosthetic, unlike Shiro’s, looked like it was made for war rather than convenience. It was near twice the length of his normal arm and as thick as a tree trunk, ending in long black claws. It was connected to his shoulder with what looked like purple lightning. It hissed and whined, humming with electric power.

_Beware the cyborg._

Keith sucked in a breath, struggling even more.

The cyborg appeared unperturbed, ignoring Keith entirely and focusing all his attention on Lotor.

He held a lumin in his hand. The Galran shared a look with Lotor, then, taking a large bite of his fruit, casual-like, he spoke. “Lotor, where are your manners?” Without warning, the Galran twisted Lotor’s arm, bending it at an odd angle and causing him to drop his dagger. It landed with a loud _thunk_ on the deck. Even if it were a pin, everyone would have heard it.

“What’s going on?”

Lotor released his grip on Keith, letting him crumple to the floor. Keith took a deep breath, filling his lungs with as much air as possible. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat. All the crew members turned to the stairwell connecting the main deck to the quarterdeck. Shiro was slowly making his way down the steps, letting his presence be known.

“I expected more from my crew. Not even in the air for an hour and already starting fights,” Shiro said, eyeing each of the crew members.

The crew ducked their heads in submission, not a sound to be heard.

Shiro caught Keith’s eye and inclined his head. His eyes spoke for him. _Are you okay?_

Keith nodded once in reply.

Shiro continued as if the exchange had never happened. “I do not want a repeat of this. This is not that kind of ship and I will not have my crew acting like hooligans.” He turned to Lotor, bringing his face so close their noses almost touched. “Do you understand, Lotor?”

“Of course, Mr. Shirogane,” Lotor said, giving a Cheshire smile.

Shiro stayed put and for a moment Keith thought he wasn’t going to back down, that he was going to wait for Lotor to move first. But then Shiro leaned back, coming up to his full height as he dismissed the crew.

The crowd dispersed.

Lotor gave Shiro a sultry smile before turning his attention to Keith. He bared his teeth, lunging forward to try and get a reaction. However, the cyborg grabbed Lotor by the scruff of his neck and pulled him forcefully towards the sleeping quarters. Keith could hear Lotor struggling against his captor, trying to get a word in edgewise. The cyborg ignored him.

“Keith.”

Keith turned to face Shiro, expecting what, he didn’t know. The first mate was still a mystery to him.

“I thought you had a job,” Shiro said.

Keith was not expecting that. His anger boiled inside of him, spilling before he could think to hold it back. “Hey, I was doing it until that princess wannabe –”

Shiro raised his hand, shushing Keith.

“I don’t want to hear excuses. What I want to hear is an honest explanation.” He lowered his hand, placing it behind his back. “So, what happened?”

Keith breathed in heavily through his nose, feeling his chest inflate like a balloon. He released his breath slowly, counting down from ten. It was something his dad had taught him when he’d started showing anger issues at school. Back then, Keith had been the perfect subject for baiting. The older kids knew they could get a reaction out of him if they pushed the right buttons. They didn’t expect anything to come of it, seeing as Keith was just a scrawny little stick back then. One time they went too far and a kid ended up with a bloody nose, the other a broken finger. Keith had left without a scratch.

That was the first time he drew blood in a fight.

Keith bit his lip now, trying to calm down so he could give a straight answer. “I overheard some of the crew members talking, and that guy, Lotor or whatever, thought he ought to teach me a lesson. So, I gave him a piece of my mind.”

Shiro stood patiently, waiting for the rest.

“I may have insulted him,” Keith muttered. “But he’s the one that drew a knife on me. Then that other guy got involved and then you showed up and you know the rest.”

Shiro paused. He took a deep breath before addressing Keith.

“I thought we talked about this earlier –”

“No, you talked and expected me to take an order from some guy I barely know.”

“Yes,” Shiro said calmly, “because that is what respect for your higher-ranking officers entails. Listening and doing as you are told, whether or not you agree with them.”

_Is he serious?_

“Are you serious? I didn’t know what that guy was going to do if I didn’t say something, he –”

“And yet saying something is what go you into that mess. You should have walked away, not taken the bait.”

Keith froze at the words.

_Keith, you can’t let them get to you like this. It’s a game to them. You need to learn to walk away. Don’t take the bait._

Keith shook his head, his father’s voice ringing in his ears.

A pause. Then, “Okay,” he muttered, refusing to meet Shiro’s eyes.

“Okay, what?” Shiro prompted.

“Okay, I’ll try and not let my mouth run away with me.”

Shiro tilted his head, expectant.

“Sir.” Keith finished.

Shiro clapped Keith on the shoulder. “Shiro’s just fine, but that’s a good start. Oh, and, Keith? Can I give you some advice?” Keith resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Isn’t that just what Shiro had been doing? “There’s a saying I try to follow. I think you might appreciate it. Patience yields focus. It helped me a lot when I was younger.”

 _You’re not that old,_ is what Keith wanted to say. Instead, he nodded, meaning yes, he got it.

Shiro inclined his head and removed his hand. Before he started walking back up the stairs to the quarterdeck he gave Keith a small smile. And for a moment, Keith didn’t see a sturdy officer filled with discipline and regulations, but a young man who understood.

“Keith!”

Keith, barreled into by a flying Pidge, collapsed back onto the deck. A pocket of air escaped his lungs, whooshing out in a loud “oomph!”

“Keith! Oh my stars, I was just finished getting that stupid gunk out of my hair, which, by the way, is nearly _impossible_ to do, when I heard yelling and I came rushing down and Hunk said you were in trouble and we both know that’s a bad sign and I was so worried and don’t _ever_ do that again!”

“Pidge, it’s okay,” Keith said, trying to untangle their limbs. Pidge was stubborn though, refusing to let go. Keith gripped their wrists, pulling their arms away from his neck so he could catch some air. Pidge only gripped tighter.

“Pidge,” Keith wheezed, “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry!” Pidge said. They released Keith but remained close, shuffling off his lap and sitting cross-legged in front of him.

“What the fuck did they to do you?” Pidge said.

“Nothing, just a bit of roughhousing,” Keith said, trying to catch his breath.

“That isn't nothing,” Pidge said, pointing at Keith’s throat.

“Huh?”

“Woah, that is some nasty bruising.” Hunk had appeared behind Pidge, towering over them. “That’s gonna last a few days at least.”

Keith touched at his throat and felt a thick swelling. He winced. When he drew back his hand there was a drop of blood on his finger.

Pidge grabbed at Keith’s hand, trying to get a closer look. Keith clutched it to his chest.

“Where is he? Where’s that son of a harpybungle, I’m gonna show him a thing or two, I’ll –”

“Pidge, Pidge calm down,” Keith said. He looked to Hunk for assistance. Hunk didn’t hesitate before grabbing Pidge, holding them close to his chest. Their feet dangled in the air as they kicked aimlessly.

“Hunk! I swear if you don’t let me loose you’re next!”

“Sure, Doc,” Hunk chuckled, totally unaffected by Pidge’s struggling.

Keith slowly stood up, gripping onto the main mast for support. His lungs felt tired, his chest sore from the pressure. If the floor would just stop tilting... “Pidge? Pidge, look at me.”

Pidge stopped their struggling, locking eyes with Keith. Their cheeks were ruddy, freckles standing out more than usual.

“I’m fine,” Keith said slowly, holding Pidge’s gaze. “Look at me.” He turned on the spot, presenting himself, although he had to hide a wince when his knee twinged a little – he’d landed awkwardly when Lotor let go. He came full circle, facing Pidge and Hunk once again.

He arched a brow. _See? I’m functioning._

Pidge did not look convinced.

Keith sighed. “I’ve been through worse. You know that.”

Pidge’s mouth set in a firm line, their glasses askew on their nose. They looked as if they were about to argue but instead went limp.

“It’s okay, Hunk,” they mumbled, “You can let go, now.” Hunk did as he was told, placing Pidge down gently on the deck. Pidge sighed then looked up at Keith. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

_Don’t ever scare me like that again._

Keith smiled.

_I won’t._

Pidge narrowed their eyes in scepticism. Keith didn’t blame them. After every fight they’d share this exchange and every time Keith promised he wouldn’t get hurt, wouldn’t be so irrational the next time someone rubbed him the wrong way, only to go and get scraped knuckles and bruised ribs the next day. He’d sported a split lip like a trophy more than once to both Pidge and Ms. Raqa’s dismay. But Pidge knew the drill. They knew that Keith was Keith, that he was going to act first and think later.

Pidge nodded. Keith was forgiven, for now.

Pidge sniffed, wiping their nose on their clean sleeve before adjusting their glasses. They were finally out of that space suit. Keith hoped they’d chucked it overboard.

“So,” they said, brightening up with ease, “who exactly did you decide to brawl with on your first day?” Their tone was teasing, no longer laced with anger.

“Some guy. He has long white hair, could be Rapunzel in disguise.”

“Lotor?” Hunk asked.

“Yeah, that one,” Keith said.

“I’ve never been on a voyage with him before, but from what I’ve heard he’s… temperamental. I’d try and steer clear.”

“Nice to know,” Keith said, deadpan.

“Did Shiro stop him from, you know?” Pidge asked nervously, indicating Keith’s throat.

Keith shook his head. “No that was some other guy. A _cyborg._ ”

Pidge’s eyes widened, sparkling with cognition.

“Oh, Sendak,” Hunk said conversationally.

“Yeah,” Keith said, sharing a look with Pidge before turning to Hunk. “You know him?”

“Oh, no, he’s just got a reputation. Apparently, his great granddad was Zarkon’s right-hand man.”

“No way,” Pidge muttered.

Hunk nodded. “Yeah. He’s pretty big news, especially cause no one knows how he got that arm,” in demonstration, Hunk jiggled his left arm.

“I thought you said you’d never met a cyborg,” Keith asked.

Hunk shrugged. “I haven’t. I’ve just heard rumours. Didn’t even know he was part of the crew till now.”

Keith looked Hunk up and down, trying to find the lie in his words. He was met with honest brown eyes. Keith sighed, turning to Pidge.

“I’ve got to finish up, why don’t you go with Hunk. I think you guys have plenty to talk about.”

“What?” Pidge shrieked. “You just got in a fight and now you’re gonna go work? Keith that’s –”

Keith silenced Pidge with a look.

Before they could argue, Keith turned his back on them. He reached for Mr. Mop and Mrs. Bucket and headed to a new spot on the deck.

“Come on, Doc,” Hunk said, “I’ve got a project I’ve been working on, I think you might be able to help.” Hunk’s voice faded as he walked Pidge down to the galley. Keith didn’t spare a look over his shoulder as he got to work.

He needed to keep a sharp eye in case Sendak decided to make another appearance.

 

***

 

“Is everyone accounted for?”

The Galra, along with Nyma, settled into their bunks, shushing one another.

“Good,” Sendak said, keeping his tone low and steady.

He waited a moment, then slammed his prosthetic into the nearest bedpost, causing the wood to creak in protest. A few splinters of wood fell to the floor. Nyma flinched.

“Are you imbecilic? After all of the effort I put into getting us hired and you already give reason for suspicion?”

“The pup was sniffing about,” Lotor drawled. He was leaning against a post, separate from the group. His little followers were close by, the half-breeds he’d insisted on recruiting. They were a rag-tag bunch, barely recognizable as Galra. The blue one always looked like she was plotting, while the orange one was constantly playing around. The big one was menacing, a head taller than Sendak himself, although one word from Lotor and she backed down. The most arresting of them all was the lizard-like woman. She never spoke, communicating in a way only the half-breeds seemed to understand. A straggly cat was her constant companion, always perched on her shoulder or winding between her legs.

They all stood behind Lotor, ready for a fight. Lotor, on the other hand, was twiddling a long piece of white hair around his finger, all bored indifference.

Sendak stalked over to Lotor, slowly, meaningfully. Lotor didn’t budge.

“You just stick to the plan, your highness,” Sendak snarled. “That joke of a first mate will run that boy so ragged he won’t even have time to think, let alone give your pretty face a second glance.”

Lotor bared his teeth. When Sendak made to raise his arm, one of Lotor’s pets stormed forward. Lotor raised a hand, calling her to stop, his eyes never straying from Sendak’s.

“Whatever you say, commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the love-hate relationship begins! I know Lance is a jerk in this chapter but don't worry, he'll show his more caring side soon enough. Have any questions or queries, hmu in the comments or on Tumblr @deliciouslysubltedelusion, I love hearing your guys' opinions!
> 
> EDIT: so I just looked at the next chapter and realized its super short but, story wise it only fits as its own chapter, I can't really squeeze it into the other chapters? So, I'm thinking I'll post it tomorrow as a sort of bonus piece? It feels unfair posting it on Thursday and then making you guys wait until Monday again for a "proper" chapter. So, yeah. Chapter 6 will be posted tomorrow and then I'll continue with the usual posting schedule of Mondays and Thursdays.
> 
> EDIT: So someone pointed out that I actually ended up posting Chapter 5 twice, hence there being a Chapter 6 which was only a duplicate of Chapter 5... I've fixed it now but I'm sorry for any confusion! ^.^


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith fight it out - uhhh, talk it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said in the notes of the previous chapter this is kinda a "bonus" chapter because its so short. I'll be sticking to my usual posting schedule of Mondays and Thursdays still, so Chapter 7 will be up on Thursday as per la schedule.

Keith heaved a heavy sigh, allowing it to turn into a tired raspberry as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He had long since shucked his jacket, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He could feel the sweat gathering at the back of his neck underneath his longer pieces of hair. The word _mullet_ echoed in his head. He promptly shoved it off an imaginary cliff.

It had been over two hours since the brawl, and in that time Keith had swabbed the deck until he could see his own reflection. Night had settled, at least, Keith thought it had. It was hard to keep track of time in space. Pidge kept a time piece on them, but Keith was too lazy to try and drag them away from Hunk. The two were getting on splendidly, working on reviving some or other droid Hunk had picked up on his travels. Apparently, Hunk had studied engineering in his spare time, teaching himself by reading second-hand books and experimenting in his grandmother’s garden shed. The man was bright, full of laughter and jokes and knowledge, although there was also a tinge of nervousness to him, especially when talking to Pidge. Keith couldn’t help but feel a little happy, knowing that Pidge had someone to talk to about their interests and who'd actually _understand_ what they were talking about.

“Well,” a voice drawled, popping Keith’s bubble of quiet calm. Keith turned to find a bright-eyed Lance leaning against the stair railing, arms and ankles crossed, all casual-like. “Thank the heavens for little miracles.”

Keith ignored the cabin boy, dipping Mr. Mop (or Irvine, since they were now on a first name basis) into Mrs. Bucket and sloshing some water onto the deck. He imagined Lance’s head at the end of the mop, swirling about in dirty water at the bottom of a rusty bucket. Keith’s lips quirked at the thought.

“I’m impressed, Mullet. You’ve been up here for two hours and the deck hasn’t caught fire yet,” Lance continued, none-the-wiser.

Keith pinched his lips together, saying nothing. He didn’t feel like arguing. He’d had enough of that for one day.

“What’s the matter, Mullet? No smart comment?”

Keith bit the inside of his cheek. This guy did not know how to take a hint.

When Lance showed no intention of buggering off, Keith finally spoke. “And what have you been doing?” he asked, directing the attention away from him.

“Oh, you know, helping out in the galley, rescuing a few damsels, the usual,” Lance said, checking his fingernails for non-existent dirt. He seemed very clean for a cabin boy. Almost too clean.

Keith rolled his eyes before giving Irvine another dunk. He could imagine the little whimpering sounds Mop-Lance would make when his head slapped the deck.

Lance’s smile turned malicious. “Speaking of damsels, heard you needed a little rescuing yourself.”

Keith looked up to find a self-satisfied smirk on Lance’s face. He wanted to slap it off with Irvine. Keith decided to play it down, though, instead. Shiro said not to take the bait. _Patience yields focus_. Might as well put his words to the test.

“Wasn’t a big deal, just a little misunderstanding.”

Lance hummed, pushing off the railing and walking towards Keith. He stopped a breath’s width away. “And I suppose this is a little misunderstanding?” Lance placed a finger underneath Keith’s chin, tilting his jaw up so he could get a better look at the ring of purple beginning to form.

Keith growled at the contact. He wasn’t comfortable with friendly touches, Pidge being the rare exception. Unwanted contact was a whole other ball game.

_Sorry Shiro._

With one quick flick of his wrist, Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and shoved it behind his back. He used the other to cup the back of Lance’s neck, squeezing hard. Lance gave out a yell as Keith pushed him to his knees, squishing his face to the floor.

 _Huh,_ Keith thought. _Lance does look pretty good as a mop._

“What the quiznak, man! Get off me!”

Keith hummed under his breath, considering how kind he was feeling. “Hmmm. I’m gonna go with… no,” he said, not bothering to hide his smirk.

Lance squirmed underneath Keith’s weight, trying to buck him off and failing miserably. “Why you little two-faced squizqork –”

“Wait,” Keith said, stopping Lance mid-rant. “What’s that?”

Lance huffed. “What’s what?” he asked. Having stopped squirming, he turned his head and looked up at Keith, squishing his cheek further onto the deck.

“What. Is. That?” Keith said, pointing to a small glob of something underneath Lance’s eye. It was a pale shade of green, with a smooth texture. It almost looked like a sort of cream.

Lance took Keith’s distraction as an opportunity, pushing up and subsequently making Keith fall flat on his back. Lance scrambled up and away, a hand covering his cheek.

“Nothing,” Lance said a little too loudly. “It’s nothing.”

Keith leaned up on his elbows, squinting to try and get a better look at Lance’s face. Lance ducked, covering his face with both hands now.

“It’s face cream, isn’t it?” Keith said, a small chuckle bubbling from his lips.

“What?” Lance sputtered. “No, not possible, can’t be.”

Keith slowly stood to his feet, wincing when his knee twinged. He'd have to stretch it out before bed. “And why’s that?” Keith asked, trying to control his laughter.

“Because I always, and I mean _always,_ wipe away every spot before going out!”

“Ahah!” Keith yelled, pointing an accusing finger.

Lance flinched, uncovering his face for a moment before slapping his hands back over his cheeks.

“I knew it! So it is face cream!”

Lance tried to shush Keith, stepping closer. “Okay, okay, so I like to pamper myself, so what?” Lance said, whispering conspiratorially.

Keith couldn’t hold it in any longer. A laugh burst from his chest, loud and unfiltered.

“Shut your quiznak! Shut your quiznak!” Lance said, trying to clamp a hand over Keith’s mouth. Keith blocked him easily, ducking left and right while still laughing his head off.

“Oh man, this is gold. Wait till I tell Pidge!”

“Don’t you dare!” Lance said. Keith could tell Lance was inexperienced with sparring, his movements sloppy and predictable. Keith only had to move his head left and right to dodge Lance’s hands.

“Don’t touch me with that, I don’t want old granny goop all over my face.”

“It’s from the men’s section I’ll have you know!”

Keith feinted right then ducked left before swiping Lance’s feet out from under him. Lance fell unceremoniously onto the deck with a squawk. Keith leaned over him, giving Lance a taste of his own medicine by flashing a smug smile.

“Do you need any help, milady?” Keith asked, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Lance spat.

Keith stood, waiting for Lance to get up. He even offered a hand, which Lance refused, pushing it to the side with a glare. “Don’t know where those grubby gloves have been,” he muttered.

Once Lance had brushed himself off, he faced Keith. There was a glint of annoyance in his eyes, although it quickly sputtered out.

“Do I still? –”

“Huh?” Keith asked, caught off guard.

Lance sighed as if the weight of the universe had been put on his shoulders.

“Is there still? –” he pointed to his face and Keith realised what Lance was asking.

“It’s under your eye, no the other one.”

“Here?” Lance asked, swiping a finger underneath his right eye.

“Yeah,” Keith muttered. He kept his hands firmly locked in his jacket pockets.

Lance finally managed to wipe away the cream, spreading it on his pants leg before facing Keith again.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “I’m not ashamed or anything,” he said, steadfast, “I’ve just learned from experience that not everyone’s okay with guys pampering themselves.”

Keith frowned. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He kind of wished he could take back his laughing, maybe apologize even. Instead, he nodded.

They stood in awkward silence. Keith didn’t really know what to do. In a matter of minutes, he’d gone from exhausted to angry to gleeful to guilty. It wasn’t something he was used to. Neither were ocean-blue eyes blinking up at him underneath long, thick eyelashes.

Keith cleared his throat, stepping back to gain some space.

Lance did the same, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Hey, um –”

Keith looked up, locked eyes with Lance then ducked down again. He let his bangs hang in front of his face, shading his eyes from the rest of the world.

“Didn't your dad teach you anything? I mean, like, that you probably shouldn't start fights you can't finish?"

Keith’s head shot up, a quick retort already on his tongue, but then he stopped. Lance looked so… earnest. As if the question were a usual conversation starter. 

His anger receded into the pit of his stomach. “No,” Keith mumbled. He picked up Irvine, who’d landed on a heap of discarded rope during their little scuffle. He swabbed, only to give himself something to do.

“Oh. Is he more of the 'sink or swim' sort?” Lance asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

_Why does he have to be so nosey?_

“No,” Keith grit out. “He's more the taking-off-and-never-coming-back sort.”

“Oh.”

Keith didn’t have to see Lance to know the look on his face. It was the same look he always got whenever someone found out he was an orphan.

_The poor thing, abandoned._

_And so young too._

_How heartless could his father have been to do such a thing?_

Keith held back a scream. He wasn’t going to do this, not now.

“It doesn't matter anymore. It's fine. I’m fine,” he said, trying to mask his frustration. He leaned Irvine against the railing, done for the night. Putting his forearms on the thick wooden bannister, Keith tilted forward, trying to disappear as far into the stars as he possibly could.

Keith felt a presence on his left side. He didn’t startle when a shoulder bumped against his own.

“You sure?” Lance asked quietly.

Keith didn’t meet his eyes when he said, “Positive.”

 

***

 

Before heading to his bunk, Lance had given Keith a backwards glance. The boy was still leaning on the bannister like his life depended on it. His dark hair melded with the sky, his eyes reflecting the stars. His skin was as pale as starlight. He looked so angry, so defeated.

Lance shook his head.

Keith was upset, he just needed time. By morning he’d be back to his grumpy old self, sharp grey eyes and jagged mouth and all.

He was the same back at the Garrison, short-tempered and angry, yet smart and quick-witted. The teachers didn’t know whether to praise him or hate him. Most went with an unhappy medium.

They’d both been studying as pilots, Keith under fighter class and Lance as a cargo pilot. Keith was the favoured amongst all the students, though, as he proved himself to be a natural. One time, Lance had followed him to the test-flight bay. It was well past curfew, but that didn’t seem to bother Keith. Lance watched on the other side of the glass screen as Keith cast off one of the smaller boats and took it for a spin through the course. He’d made it look so easy. It was like he was born to be at the helm of a ship.

 _How can he not remember me?_ Lance thought as he tucked himself under his blanket. His hammock swayed under his weight. He was on the top bunk, as per usual. Back home and at the Garrison, he’d always taken the top bunk. Lance wanted to be as close to the stars as possible.

He looked up now, squinting in the darkness as if the stars would suddenly appear through the ceiling if he looked hard enough. He wondered if that’s what Keith was doing now, looking for solace in the stars.

_No, forget about him. He’s forgotten you._

Lance turned over, burrowing further into the rough canvas of his hammock.

_Why doesn’t he remember me?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Life and Times of Keith as a cabin boy Part 1. 
> 
> (aka, Shiro kicks Keith's butt into gear with a little Klance on the side...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Re-read this chapter this morning and found a few spelling/grammar mistakes which I have now fixed, otherwise I didn't change anything major.

He was on his solar surfer, soaring through the clouds. He ducked forward, letting the wind and his sail do the work. He kept going and going and going until he breached the atmosphere. He slowed down until he was floating in mid-air. The stars hugged his sides, guiding him as he floated further and further away from Earth, from everyone and everything until he was swallowed by a red cloud of stardust. Somewhere along the lines, he’d lost his solar surfer. But that didn’t matter. You didn’t need anything when you were a star.

“Keith!”

Keith woke with a start, nearly toppling out of his hammock.

“Thank the stars, I thought I’d have to hit you over the head or something.”

Keith cracked open his eyes to find Pidge at his side. They were fully dressed in their usual white shirt and brown breeches. Their knee socks disappeared into their clunky boots. They were also wearing a green waistcoat with gold threading, along with an orange cravat. Keith didn’t even know they owed a cravat.

“What’s with the getup?” he asked, his words slurring from sleep.

“Figured I’d make up for the disaster that was yesterday’s suit.”

“By dressing for a ball?”

Pidge harrumphed, their mouth contorting into a tight pinch.

“Shiro wants to see you, so hurry up and get dressed,” they said, before heading up the stairs. “Oh, and Keith,” they said. “Your hair’s a mess.”

Keith ran his fingers through his hair and sure enough, it was up in large tufts, sticking out at all angles. Somehow, his bangs had ended up practically vertical, the hair at the nape of his neck a bush. He wouldn’t be surprised if a bird flew out from under there.

“Pidge, could I –”

Pidge tossed a thin piece of ribbon onto Keith’s lap. A knowing smile danced across their lips.

“Thanks,” Keith said.

“Now hurry up. You don’t want to leave Shiro hanging. Trust me.”

 

***

 

Having managed to pull his hair back into a loose ponytail, Keith ran up the stairs to the main deck. Sure enough, Shiro was waiting for him at the main mast.

Keith stopped just a little ways away, not wanting to get too close. In his rush, he hadn’t had the time to wash out his mouth.

“Good morning, Keith,” Shiro said, with an official nod.

“Morning Shiro,” Keith said, unsure of what to do. Should he salute?

“You’re just in time for breakfast, I recommend grabbing what you can. Meet me up here again in twenty minutes. No later.”

Keith wasn’t going to argue. He rushed to the galley, taking the steps two at a time. After all of yesterday’s fun, Keith had forgotten to eat supper. His stomach rumbled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith muttered under his breath. As soon as he stepped foot into the galley, however, he started having second thoughts. A whole room of yellow eyes was set upon him, watching his every move.

Keith cleared his throat.

It looked like he'd already gained a reputation.

_Might as well live up to it._

Keith held his head up high, ignoring the Galra as he made his way down the aisle. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the little pipsqueak from the day before. He scowled at Keith, making a punching motion with his hand.

Keith ignored him, turning his attention to the kitchen.

Hunk greeted him with a warm smile.

“Here you go,” he said, placing a metal plate down in front of Keith. “Pidge told me to save you some.”

“Thanks,” Keith said, resisting the urge to tip the plate back and gulp everything down in one go.

Keith took the plate, along with the utensils Hunk offered. Keith knew he wasn’t welcome to any of the open spots amongst the rest of the crew so, he hoisted himself up onto the counter. Hunk raised a quizzical brow but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned back to the stove to salt two fried eggs in a pan. The yolk was a minty green colour but it looked good all the same. Hunk scooped them up and placed them on a plate along with two rashers of what appeared to be bacon and a chunk of bread.

“Bon appetite,” Hunk said, grabbing his bread and dipping it in the yolk of his eggs.

“Bon appetite,” Keith said, unsure as he took a fork to his bacon and shovelled it into his mouth. The meat was a little leathery, but the fat on the side burst with flavour, making the meat easier to chew. It definitely wasn’t bacon.

“Don’t mind the texture,” Hunk said between bites. “It’s supposed to be like that.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is it?”

“Bronzil, a type of hog found on Baxrilion. There’s actually quite a lot you can do with it –” Hunk went on to talk about the different delicacies one could make with Bronzil. Keith listened with half an ear, taking savouring bites of his breakfast. Once he was on the second rasher of Bronzil, he’d gotten used to the leathery texture.

“Oh, I think you’d better go,” Hunk said.

Keith turned to find the galley deserted.

_Shit._

Gobbling down the last of his eggs, Keith dumped the plate in the sink and made his way to the stairs. But before he reached the top, he turned back to address Hunk.

“Hey, I just wanted to say sorry, for being a bit off yesterday.”

“No worries,” Hunk said, polishing off his eggs. “Pidge said you could be a little distant with new people.”

Keith didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded before climbing up the rest of the stairs.

Shiro was standing exactly where Keith had left him. Keith wondered if he’d even moved.

“You’re late,” Shiro said as Keith came panting to his side.

“I’m sorry, I kinda got lost in a conversation about Bronzil.”

“Hunk?” Shiro asked.

Keith hid a smile when he nodded yes.

“Then I guess that’s okay. Though try and keep an eye on the clock next time.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shiro gave him a look.

“Shiro,” Keith corrected.

Shiro nodded in approval. “Alright, so, seeing as this is your first voyage, I thought it be best to teach you a few skills.”

Keith’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Was Shiro offering to be his mentor?

“Skills?” he asked, stumbling on the word.

“Hm. Just a few simple things at first, like tying knots, how to work the rigging etcetera. If you’re willing to work hard, then we can slowly start getting to the more difficult tasks, like how to launch a long boat for instance.”

Keith could feel excitement buzzing through his veins, flying at an unimaginable speed.

The Garrison would have a lesson each week known as test flights, where a crew of three sail out in a boat and must work together through obstacles. Keith had set new records just as quickly as he had broken them. He’d proven to be a natural behind the wheel. If he had stuck around for his final year he would be flying ships just like the Liath with his eyes closed. He’d missed his opportunity to become an aeronaut once, he wasn’t going to pass it up again.

“Should we get started?” Shiro asked.

Keith couldn’t hold back his enthusiasm. “Yes! I mean,” he coughed, “Yes. Please.”

“Good,” Shiro said, a small smile gracing his lips. “Then we’ll start with shucking.”

“Shucking?”

Shiro held up what looked like a chisel in his hand, waving it a little.

_Oh no._

“Oh yes,” Shiro said.

 

***

 

From then on, Shiro had Keith doing the most menial tasks ever invented. From shucking unwanted barnacles off the sides of the ship to tying knots over and over until his fingers blistered (Shiro had banned Keith from wearing his gloves, much to Keith’s annoyance).

On more than one occasion, Keith wanted to throw down whatever he was holding, that damned chisel or a scrubbing brush, and stomp off. He didn’t understand. How was this important? These were cabin boy duties, not something fit for a real crew member.

Keith asked Shiro as much while they were sitting up in the crow’s nest, tying bowlines. Calluses were starting to build up on Keith’s hands, making blisters less of a problem and more of an occasional nuisance. Keith would never say it outright, but he understood now why Shiro had made him get rid of his gloves.

“Is there any particular reason you lured me into this with the promise of learning to ride a long boat?” Keith asked, attempting for the umpteenth time to tie a bowline knot.

“I didn’t lure you into anything,” Shiro said, tying off his bowline and checking the perfect knot, before unravelling it. His fingers were quick with practice. How many times had he done this to get his rhythm so slick?

“You kinda did,” Keith said, swearing under his breath when his fingers got caught in the knot. He pulled one of the ends, only causing the knot to tighten.

“Widen the gap.”

“Huh?”

Shiro made a gesture with his fingers, spreading them wide as if opening a pair of scissors. Keith did as he was told and was surprised to find the knot loosen. It came undone, falling into his lap. It looked like a snake basking in the sun.

“Thanks,” Keith said, picking it up and starting at the knot again.

“Well, I didn’t mean to, per say,” Shiro said. He’d stopped making bowlines and started unravelling his piece of rope, tying the thinner strands in random knots. Keith didn’t really know what he was doing but didn’t ask at the risk of getting told off or worse, put on shucking duty again.

“What I’m trying to do is show you how important the little tasks are,” Shiro continued, “so that when we do get to the bigger stuff, you’re more appreciative.”

Keith huffed an incredulous laugh. “Wow,” he muttered.

“You don’t agree?”

“No, actually, I don’t. This stuff,” he gestured to the rope in his hands, “this is cabin boy work. I want to be treated like a real crew member. I want to be respected.”

“And do you think this crew started off immediately where they are.”

It wasn’t a question because Shiro already knew the answer. Keith answered him anyway – he could guess where this was going.

“No.”

Shiro nodded in affirmation.

“Lance is just as much a crew member as Rolo or I. He may look like a slacker, but when you give him a task, he does it at one hundred percent.”

Keith went silent. He’d noticed how Lance took everything head-on, even when it was just securing rigging or helping Hunk with kitchen clean up.

“He definitely has the promise of a core crew member. I think he could even move up to piloting ranks, if he works hard enough,” Shiro said.

_We were in the same year at the Garrison._

Keith shook his head. He didn’t need an apparent classmate clogging up his brain. Instead, he focused on Shiro. The rope in his hands was starting to take on a definite shape.

The fingers of Shiro’s right hand flashed in the rare bit of sunlight they’d been graced with that day. Keith eyed Shiro’s prosthetic, how the seamless silver and black metal melded together, disappearing underneath Shiro’s shirt cuffs. It was almost a perfect replica of his left hand.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop to think.

“Is that how? –”

Shiro met his gaze and Keith immediately clamped his mouth shut.

The look in Shiro’s eyes was unshakeable; lonely. Empty.

Shiro’s fingers slowed, a deep sigh filling the silence.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have –”

“No, it’s okay,” Shiro said, meeting Keith’s eyes again.

_This isn’t the first time._

“You don’t have to tell me,” Keith said. He idly wrapped his rope around his fingers, trying to distract his racing mind. Why did he always let his mouth run away with him before his brain even had a chance to compute?

“No, I think you should know. Otherwise you’ll assume.” There was a heaviness in Shiro’s voice. He’d done this before, said all of this before. It sounded like a routine, a skill he had mastered, just like tying knots.

“I’m guessing you know about the Rebellion.”

Keith nodded. It was basic knowledge, history that was pounded into their heads at school. The Galra had managed to overthrow the galaxy a hundred years ago, Zarkon, a Galra diplomat and once a great leader, became obsessed with power. He’d been so driven by his want, his need, for rulership, that he’d gone so far as to wipe out entire planets if they refused to be colonized.

“Well, obviously Zarkon’s Empire was eventually overruled, thanks to King Alfor.”

Keith didn’t know that name, it had never been mentioned in his history lessons, and yet it niggled at the back of his mind. He nodded anyway, indicating for Shiro to continue.

“And as the years went by, the Galra lost power. Though, the Empire had spread so far, it was impossible to eradicate all the Galra colonies. They were still causing havoc in what little parts of the galaxy they possessed. That’s actually how the Garrison got formed.”

“Seriously?”

Shiro hummed. “It was originally a training base for soldiers. They’d organise reconnaissance missions, send the troops off to take back the planets. After a few decades of that, most of the Galra colonies had been restored back to their original states. It took a while, but the Garrison managed to help the planets get back on their feet. Eventually, the galaxy didn’t need soldiers anymore, but adventurers, astronomers, physicists. So, the Garrison became a school of sorts.”

Whilst the little impromptu history listen was interesting, it wasn’t really answering Keith’s question. Shiro seemed to sense Keith’s impatience.

“You know I went there with Matt. I even went on a few missions with him and his father once I graduated... wow, five years ago.” Shiro stopped, his hands stilling as he contemplated the fact. After a moment of thought, he continued, hands making deft knots once more, “But then the Garrison found out about a colony that was still under Galra control. They decided I was fit for the job, had enough experience under my belt. So, I was made captain for the voyage.” Shiro gave a rueful smile, his eyes darkening a moment. “We were ambushed. Didn’t stand a chance.”

Shiro went silent.

“We were held captive for a year," he said, quiet. "During that time, the Galra made use of us. Either in the mines or in the arena.”

At Keith’s quizzical look, Shiro answered with, “Gladiator arena.” Keith felt a gasp of air escape his lips. He’d heard snatches of what the Galra did in the old days, before and during the Empire’s reign. But he’d never imagined they might actually be true, that it was still happening today. That the man before him had experienced it first hand. “They’d choose those they deemed fit enough to fight in the arena for the aristocrats’ amusement. I managed alright, though there was a cost.” Shiro fingered at his prosthetic then ran a finger across the bridge of his nose, indicating the pink scarring forever fixed there.

Keith eyed Shiro’s white tuft of hair and wondered if that was also a side effect of his time with the Galra. But he didn’t ask. He already knew the answer.

“How did you get out?” Keith asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know.”

Keith met Shiro’s eyes. The darkness had vanished, the slate grey of Shiro’s eyes a little clearer. But his brows were furrowed in thought.

“I remember snatches. Listening to the guards, counting their steps. I learned their routine, which hallway they’d be in at what time, right down to the second. But how I got out of my cell… that’s where it gets foggy.”

Keith had abandoned his rope by now. It lay in his lap uselessly. “Were you scared?”

Shiro didn’t hesitate. “Of course. But I also knew that was my one chance. I would be put under major surveillance if I got caught, they wouldn’t let me out of their sight. So, I did what I do best. I focused.”

_Patience yields focus._

“And you got out.”

Shiro hummed in response. “I managed to procure a longbaot somehow. I made it back to the spaceport and the rest is history.”

“And your crew?”

Shiro averted his gaze.

Of course. He couldn’t have risked it.

“Once I was found, I was taken back to the Garrison. I recovered, slowly worked my way up again through small voyages. When Allura needed a first mate, the Garrison offered me the job. I took it, been by her side ever since.” A soft smile tickled the corners of Shiro’s mouth. There was that look again: admiration, fondness. Affection.

Keith could feel the heaviness in the air, still a little dense with tension. He decided to change the subject.

“So how long have you been sailing with her? The Captain, I mean.”

“Just over a year. Lance was recruited two months ago but he’s already managed to get a reputation amongst most of the young ladies at the port.” He rolled his eyes, although a good-natured smile tugged at his lips. “Hunk came along a month later, and we all thanked the stars for that. Sal was a standard cook but in comparison to Hunk’s food, we might as well have been eating moonstone.”

Keith found himself chuckling with Shiro. Such simple things, happy little moments on an old ship. It made Shiro’s year of hell seem inconceivable and yet there was the proof, glinting in the sunlight, wrapping rope into cleaver knots.

A thought popped into Keith’s head, making him purse his lips. “Isn’t it difficult, working with this crew?”

“Absolutely,” Shiro said, no hesitation.

“Then, how do you? – ”

Shiro only gave him a look.

_Right._

“Patience yields focus,” Keith whispered to himself.

“Like I said, those words helped me a lot when I was younger.”

“You’re still young,” Keith quipped, trying to make a joke. It didn’t come out as teasingly as he’d hoped, but rather soft-spoken, almost with a sense of finality.

“I suppose you’re right,” Shiro said.

“Shiro!”

Keith and Shiro leaned over the sides of the crow’s nest to find Lance waving his arms at the bottom of the mast.

“Yes Lance?”

“Allura, uh, the Captain needs to speak with you,” Lance yelled.

“Alright, I’ll be down in a tick.”

Lance gave a thumbs up before swaggering off.

Keith had been wary of Lance since his first night on the Laith, avoiding him when possible. It proved difficult, considering how much time the cabin boy spent around Hunk and how often Pidge would be talking to Hunk and seeing as Pidge was the only other person Keith would willingly spend time with, Keith would end up in the same vicinity as Lance more often than he’d like... it was frustrating to say the least. Lance took every opportunity he could to test Keith’s temper, sending jabs and taunts his way like greeting cards. Keith would either ignore them or return the favour with a quips and death threats. Lance would only smile, knowing they were empty threats.

The boy was also competitive, stubbornly so, challenging Keith to meaningless competitions such as who could wash the dishes quickest or finish their food first. Unfortunately, Keith took to the challenges. He couldn’t help it, he was competitive by nature and refused to back down from any challenge, great or small. Right now, they were at a tie, both holding ten wins to their name (Pidge had been keeping score).

Suffice to say, Lance refused to be ignored.

“Keith.”

Keith started, realising he’d been staring at a Lance that was no longer there. “Yes?”

“I know it’s not very appealing, but I promise you, this work will pay off. Little things add up and so it’s the little things that are most important.”

Shiro stood up and, grabbing a long piece of rope, tied a quick noose. He secured it around the metal hook molded into the bannister and cast the rest of the rope down to the deck. Swinging his leg round, he straddled the bannister and addressed Keith.

“Think on it.”

Before Keith could answer, Shiro was sliding down the rope, landing swiftly on the deck. He looked up at Keith one last time before heading to Allura’s stateroom where she would no doubt be sitting, plotting the next part of their course.

Keith sat a moment, trying to take in this new information. Shiro had been through so much, more than any captain could recount in thirty, maybe even forty years of their career. And yet here he stood. Allura’s words echoed at the back of Keith’s mind.

_Strong, dependable, brave and true._

He couldn’t agree more.

Eventually, Keith stood up. He breathed out a deep sigh, creating a white puff of smoke in the air. Dragon’s breath, his father used to call it. Being up so high meant a greater exposure to the cold – which was never ending when it came to space. He shivered even though the sun was still shining, clutching his leather jacket. He kneaded the soft leather between his fingers. It was his mother’s, a treasure hidden far away in a box in his father’s closet. Keith had stolen it, keeping it hidden under his mattress. It was a little worse for wear, the sleeves looking as if they might tear off any second, but it kept out the cold. Plus, it was a small piece of the puzzle, another clue to the mystery that was his mother.

Keith gripped onto the rope, ready to slide down to the deck when something caught his eye. Shiro had left the rope he’d been knotting on his seat, except it wasn’t knots. It was a lion.

Keith reached over and gently plucked it from its perch. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the coarse texture of the rope. It wasn’t perfect, but there were definite indications of a tail, four large paws and a snout. It even had a mane, the frayed ends of the rope fanning out behind the lion’s make-shift ears.

Keith pocketed the lion, making sure it was tucked safely in his jacket before swinging over the banister and making his way down to the deck.

 

***

 

Lance waltzed into the galley, grabbing a lumin as he entered the kitchen.

“Hey Pidgeon,” he said, taking a bite of the tangy fruit. Juice trickled down his chin, dripping onto the collar of his shirt. Lance groaned in frustration. _It just had to be the white shirt_.

“How many times do I have to threaten you before you stop calling me that?” Pidge muttered. They were busy tinkering with a scrap of metal they’d named Rover. It was triangular shaped with a small screen acting as an eye in the front. If Lance wanted to, he could probably crush it between two hands it was so small. Hunk had found it stranded on a Balmera just before he joined the Laith, adding it to his list of to-fix projects. Even though the model was famously known for being Galra, he’d still put in the long hours to restore it.

Lance had said more than once that Hunk should just chuck it overboard, that it wasn’t safe. Hunk would argue back that with a little tweaking, the automaton would be on their side rather than attempting to blow their heads off with laser fire. Lance would nod and smile, even though he was still planning the little critter’s death. That thing could only be a menace once it was up and running. And now that Pidge was part of the equation, well… they might as well have handed a bomb to a five year old.

“Come on you stubborn – Ah ha!” Pidge said, having pulled out what looked to be a cog of sorts. They immediately got to work on cleaning it, scrubbing it until it shone like a Balmeran crystal. Speaking of which…

“How’s Shay, Hunk?” Lance said.

“She’s good,” Hunk answered, not really paying attention seeing as he was busy preparing supper. It was his famous herzoffen stew, something Pidge had taken a liking to. Lance had confronted Hunk about it, saying he was favouring Pidge because they were his role model. Hunk had only laughed, bringing Lance into a bear hug. “You’ll always be my first mate, man.” Lance didn’t doubt it.

Lance had first met Hunk when he was appointed as the new chef for the Laith. (Everyone had breathed a sigh of relief when Sal, their old cook, had packed his bags, saying he was off to start a restaurant of his own.) Lance had been part of the crew for a month only, still getting used to the amount of work required each day. It didn’t help that Sal treated him like a slave in the kitchen. Lance had been apprehensive when they were told they were getting a new cook. One look at Hunk’s bright smile, though, and Lance knew he’d just met his new best friend. They’d hit it off immediately.

Now, Lance decided to have a little fun.

“Hunk’s told you about Shay, right Pidge?”

“Not really,” Pidge said, still distracted with Rover’s cog. They’d placed it back into Rover’s central mechanism, moving on to another piece that proved twice as difficult to get out.

“Hunk! How could you not have told Pidge about your girlfriend?”

Pidge slammed down their tools.

“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?” they screamed. “WHY HAVE I NOT HEARD OF THIS?”

“Will you keep your voice down?” Hunk said, clamping a hand over Pidge’s mouth. His hands were considerably large, almost as big as Pidge’s face in fact. Pidge scrambled, pulling at Hunk’s hand. It didn’t budge. Hunk looked smug for a moment, happy to have gotten some peace and quiet, when he yelped.

“Pidge!” He yelled, wiping his hand thoroughly on his apron.

“What?” they said, nonchalant.

“You just licked my hand! _Continuously_.”

“I couldn’t breathe. I did it for survival,” Pidge said, shrugging it off. “Now, tell me about your girlfriend, is she cute?”

Hunk tilted his head back, sighing. “You’ll pay for this,” he said, glaring at Lance.

“I didn’t do anything,” Lance said, shrugging away Hunk’s accusation.

“Huuunk!” Pidge whined, pawing at Hunk’s sleeve, “Come on, tell me!”

“Fine, fine. Her name’s Shay. And she’s not my girlfriend.” Hunk directed a pointed look at Lance. Lance whistled, feigning innocence.

“Yeah sure,” Pidge said, dismissing Hunk’s lie. “How did you meet?”

“Well, before I joined the Liath I was part of a cargo crew, gran I needed the cash. They mainly worked with Balmerans and the one day they needed an extra hand with unloading some crystals so I offered to help and that’s how I met Shay. End of story.”

Pidge shook their head. “Nope, I know there’s more to it than that. Gimme all the dirty details.”

“There are none!” Hunk said, hands on hips. But then he softened, his eyes going a little distant. “Actually, there was this one time –”

And that was Lance’s cue to zone out. He’d heard all the stories multiple times and had the love-sick look Hunk would make whenever he so much as mentioned Shay’s name seared at the back of his head for all time. Lance will admit, from what Hunk’s told him, Shay seemed like a pretty sweet gal. Lance had yet to meet her, but he felt like he’d known Shay for years.

As Hunk warbled on, Lance started to think about Nyma. She looked extra pretty today, having done something different with her hair. Lance had said as much with his signature wink and finger guns. Nyma had giggled, returning his wink, only to be called away by Rolo. _Rolo_ , Lance thought with a scoff. Apparently, he and Nyma have known each other way back when, so in a way, Rolo could be considered his competition, but – no, there was no way Nyma wasn’t falling for his charms. She flirted back occasionally, even started some conversations like how he’d ended up on the ship, what his duties entailed. Lance hadn’t given her the whole story, rather embellishing it here and there to make it sound more like the stories his mother would read to him when he was little. And Nyma had soaked up every word.

She wasn’t a big conversationalist. In fact, she let Lance do most of the talking. Sometimes he wished she’d offer up a little more, tell him about herself. How else was he going to win her over if he didn’t even know what her favourite flower was, or how she liked to take her cup of tea? He didn’t even know if she liked tea.

Tea…

The memory rushed over him like a wave, swallowing him whole.

 

§

 

He was in the common room at the Garrison, unable to sleep. It was a usual thing for him. He was so used to a big bustling house full of people and colours and good, home cooked meals made from scratch. It felt like the complete opposite at the Garrison, with its modern set up of metal surfaces and automatons. It felt cold, clinical. It was even worse at night, which is why Lance would escape into the common room, at the heart of the Garrison. Maybe that was why it was so appealing. That and the view.

The set up was simple with a few settees and even a small kitchen for the students to make coffee or tea but what was most alluring was the ceiling. It was made entirely of glass, allowing its spectator a perfect view of the night sky.

His mamá used to say that, at night, the sky tears open and stars erupt from the heavens. Looking up through that ceiling, Lance couldn’t help but agree. He could watch the stars for hours on end and never get bored. They always brought a sense of solace.

The common room soon became his sanctuary, his hidey-hole for when he couldn’t sleep and his mind refused to switch off. All he’d have to do was sit down, look up and breathe.

And then Keith had entered the picture.

Lance was lying on the floor, pillowing his head with his arms when the door creaked open. Light shone from the hallway, blocking Lance’s view of the figure tiptoeing into the room. The figure closed the door quietly, letting the silence settle. Lance had been worried that they would direct their lamp his way, see him sitting on the floor. He didn’t want to get into trouble with one of the teachers, not any time soon considering his latest disaster of a prank. They didn’t though. Once they were certain that no one had seen them, the figure moved towards the counter. They switched on the heater, placing a pot of water on the grate before dragging out a cup from the shelves lining the wall.

They were making tea.

 _Guess they can’t sleep, either,_ Lance thought, smiling a little. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one.

The figure stood, waiting for the water to boil. Occasionally, they would look up to the ceiling, lose themselves in the stars and then come back down to earth to check the water again.

Once the water had boiled, they were swift and precise. They made their tea then packed everything back where they’d found it, the pot dried, the tea bags back in their tin. But then they froze.

“Dammit,” they whispered, “where’s the sugar?”

By the sound of their voice, the mystery figure was a boy.

He rummaged around the counter, the shelves, even checked in the tea tins by the heater. The boy came up empty-handed.

Lance wanted to stand up, help him in his search, but something held him back. He was scared the boy would tell on him, which was ludicrous considering the boy would then also get in trouble.

The boy sighed, seeming to give up. He took the cup and made as if he were about to dump its contents down the drain when Lance cleared his throat. “Have you tried the cabinet?”

The boy turned, swearing when he spilt tea down his front.

“What?” The boy, having placed his teacup on the counter, grabbed his lamp, aiming it in Lance’s direction. Lance held his breath, waiting to be found out. But the light never met him. He was safe in the shadows.

Instead, the lamp’s light caught at long black strands of hair, messy from restless sleep. Grey eyes shone in the amber glow.

It was Keith, the boy teachers both loved and despised, who knew all the answers and then argued with the instructors about them. Keith, the future aeronaut.

Lance cleared his throat. “I said, did you check the cabinet,” he said, pitching his voice lower so he wouldn’t be recognised.

Keith turned on the spot, looking about without much success.

“Up top, on the right,” Lance directed. He indicated with his hand, then lowered it when he realised it wouldn’t be of much help in the dark.

Eventually, Keith spotted the cabinet. When he tried to open it, it proved to be locked. Keith stringed a few dirty words together, words Lance didn’t even know existed. He stored them away for later use.

“It’s locked,” Keith muttered. His head ducked low in defeat. Lance was about to suggest picking the lock (Lance was surprisingly good at that, having a lot of spare time on his hands and nothing to do, it was a good skill to have) when Keith perked up. Reaching behind him, Keith drew out a dagger from a sheath hidden underneath the folds of his black shirt. He proceeded to pick the lock with it. After a moment of muttering and scratching the cabinet finally opened with a soft click.

“Gotchya,” Keith said. Lance could hear his smile.

Keith hurriedly took down the sugar. He didn’t even bother using a spoon, but rather poured it into his cup straight from the tin.

“You sure you’ve got enough tea to go with your sugar?” Lance asked, hiding a snigger behind his hand.

“Just about,” Keith said, not really paying Lance any mind.

When Keith was satisfied, he replaced the lid of the sugar tin and put it back on its shelf in the cabinet. He then thought better of it and placed it next to the tea tin on the counter.

“For next time,” he said, almost to himself.

Making sure the cabinet doors were closed, Keith clicked the lock back into place and sheathed his dagger. He picked up his cup of tea and blew on it, the steam making one long line of smoke in the soft orange glow of the lamp. Keith took a sip and sighed in relief.

His lamp hung from his wrist as he turned in the general direction of Lance.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Lance replied. He smiled, knowing Keith couldn’t see him. Any other day, he’d be throwing insults, argue who was the better pilot. They were rivals after all. But, right then, with the stars above their heads and Keith’s face lit up in the dim light of his lamp… everything felt soft, romantic almost. And besides, it wasn’t like Keith would ever know it was him.

Keith made his way to the door, opening it slowly so as not to make it squeak. When the coast was clear he walked through the doorway. He was about to shut the door when he stopped.

“Why are you here?” he asked suddenly.

Lance hesitated. Should he tell him? Could he? It was probably the least he could do, since Keith had revealed his night time routine.

“I’m here to see the stars,” Lance said, looking up at the glass.

Keith said nothing. Then, quietly, he whispered a breathy “Goodnight,” closing the door behind him.

Lance waited until he was sure Keith was gone before lying back down on the floor. He resumed his earlier position, arms pillowing his head, chin tilted up to look at the ceiling. The moon had made an appearance, shining down on Lance. He basked in its shimmery white glow.

Lance held up a hand, playing with the shadows the light created between his fingertips. He could see every little detail, the scars across his knuckles, the nail he’d managed to bite to a nub. Everything was there.

Wait.

Lance shot up and glanced down at himself. He could see everything, the moonlight acting like a stage light.

Lance glanced back at the door, expecting Keith to be standing there grinning at him.

He was alone.

 

§

 

“What do you think Lance?”

“Huh?” Lance turned then startled when he saw two pairs of inquisitive eyes staring at him intently.

“I said, what do you think?” Hunk asked.

Lance scratched at the nape of his neck, trying to rack his brains for any snatches of the conversation Pidge and Hunk had been having. His mind came up blank.

“Uh, well, uh, Hunk, I think um –”

“I knew it, he was daydreaming about someone,” Pidge said. “Pay up,” they held out a hand expectantly.

“Nah uh, wait a second, we don’t know that. Lance didn’t say that he was. Were you?” Hunk asked, turning to Lance.

“How did you know?” Lance said, much to Pidge’s glee and Hunk’s disappointment.

“Come on man, I had money on this,” Hunk whined as he handed over two bronze pieces to Pidge. They pocketed it, a smug smile gracing their face.

“Pleasure doing business with you Hunk. Now, who were you thinking about Lance?”

“I bet it was Nyma. Either her or Allura. Though, I’m gonna go with Nyma, seeing as she hasn’t proven to be totally disgusted by him yet,” Hunk mused.

Lance squawked in indignation. “Hunk!”

Pidge leaned in close, studying Lance. Their amber eyes were enlarged by their glasses, making them look owlish.

“I don’t know Hunk, that looked a little deeper than some quick-time crush.”

“What the quiznak are you talking about?” Lance said, trying not to let his frustration seep through.

“The look on your face,” Pidge said matter-of-factly.

“What look, there wasn’t any look,” Lance argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, defensive pose. We’re on to something,” Hunk said, his eyebrows knitted in thought.

“There’s nothing to be on!” Lance exclaimed.

Pidge and Hunk shared a look before turning back to Lance.

“Lance, sweetie,” Pidge said, patting Lance on the arm, “don’t kid yourself, I know that look.”

“What. Look.” Lance spat.

“You know, the look.” Pidge struck a pose. With their elbows leaning on the counter, they cradled their chin in their hands. Their eyelids drooped as they blinked slowly, lazily. Their mouth went slack, the corners tilting up in a small smile. They sighed deeply. They looked as if they’d been put under a trance.

“Woah,” Hunk said.

Pidge sat up, the dopey look gone in a flash.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Hunk asked, still in awe.

Pidge shrugged. “My brother, Matt. After he met Shiro he wouldn’t stop fading off into the distance. He had a crush on him for months until he actually got to know the guy. Now they’re thick as thieves, blood brothers, ya know?”

Lance latched on to this new piece of gossip. “Wait, your brother had a crush on Shiro?”

Pidge nodded, their attention already turned back to Rover. They tightened a few bolts with a small wrench. Sliding the final compartment into place, Rover slowly woke up. His screen lit up with a faded green glow, contrasting rather nicely with its bronze metal work, before hovering up into the air.

“There we go, good as new,” Pidge said, proud of their handiwork.

“Okay, that’s amazing,” Hunk said, pointing at Rover, “and I’m gonna sing your praises but first can we quickly go back to the part where your brother had a crush on Shiro. Shiro, as in the first mate of this ship, that Shiro?”

“I’d much rather talk about your mystery dream person,” Pidge said, turning a sly smile Lance’s way.

“Yeah,” Hunk said, sharing a conspiratorial look with Pidge as he leaned close into Lance’s space. “Who is it?”

“You’re not getting any info out of me,” Lance said, tilting his nose into the air.

“So you do like someone!” Hunk yelled at the same time Pidge said, “I knew it!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Didn’t say what?”

All three of them turned to find Keith at the bottom of the stairs. His hair was windswept from being up in the crow’s nest, a few wisps of his fringe escaping his ponytail. That damn ponytail. Lance couldn’t stop staring at it. He just wanted to tug it, see how much it would irritate Keith. But then images of their first night on the ship, of his face being smashed onto the deck and the feeling of a sharp pain at the back of his neck would appear. Even though Lance could probably run circles around Keith, it still wasn’t worth the risk.

“That Hunk’s herzoffen stew is second-rate,” Pidge supplied.

“What!” Lance and Hunk exclaimed simultaneously.

Keith chuckled ( _I didn’t know he could do that_ ) before walking down the aisle to the kitchen. He brought a chair along with him. Turning it about, he straddled it, resting his arms on the back.

“Don’t worry Hunk, it’s the best stew I’ve ever tasted,” he said, giving Hunk a reassuring smile.

Lance improvised. “That’s because you haven’t tried my mamá’s _Ajiaco_. It’s the toast of the town,” Lance said, sending a glare at Pidge.

Keith hummed before catching Lance’s gaze. “Guess I’ll have to take you up on that when we get back.”

“Double or nothing says it’s not Nyma,” Pidge whispered to Hunk.

Keith’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Pidge waved him off. He was about to ask a question anyway when Rover flew over Pidge’s shoulder, lapping circles around Keith’s head and drawing his attention away from the rest of the group.

Hunk waited a moment before taking Pidge’s hand and shaking it. “Deal.”

Lance hung his head in his hands.

_Quiznak._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a side note, Ajiaco (as far as I know) is a traditional Cuban stew. Its got a little bit of everything in it and honestly looks delicious (I've never had it but I'm feeling very tempted to make some myself). If I am wrong please feel free to correct me!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Life and Times of Keith as a cabin boy Part 2.
> 
> aka, Keith is starting to get the hang of things and Lance is... well, Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter than the others but I promise the next one is long and has some quality Klance! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

After three weeks of shucking, scrubbing, cleaning and many other tasks Keith would rather not mention in passing, Shiro finally allowed Keith to venture up the main mast for a lesson on how to lower the mainsail singlehandedly. After the first ten minutes of Shiro’s lecture, Keith felt he already knew what he was doing, but he gave Shiro the benefit of the doubt, allowing him another minutes’ grace.

“It may seem a little tedious but once you’ve ensured the slipknot is in place –”

Keith didn’t let Shiro finish. He adjusted the ream of rope around his shoulder before skipping off to the end of the yard.

“Keith!” Shiro yelled, reaching out to try and grab the back of Keith’s jacket. The leather slipped through his fingers.

“Trust me, Shiro!” Keith said over his shoulder as he started tying a noose. He looped it over the end of the yard and tightened it fast. When he was sure it was secure, Keith stood up and looked back at Shiro, waiting for his go-ahead.

Shiro hesitated, then nodded.

Keith grinned.

Grabbing the free end of the rope he started making his way back to Shiro, weaving the rope under and over the small loops of metal that were attached to the hooks on the yard.

“Excuse me,” he said, shuffling past Shiro chest-to-chest.

Shiro said nothing as he watched Keith finish off the last bit of weaving. Keith pulled the rope taught then made a knot halfway through the left-over length.

“You done?” Shiro asked, arching a brow.

“Not quite,” Keith said, his mouth splitting into a cheeky grin before he bolted to the opposite end of the yard.

“Keith! What are you –”

Keith jumped off the edge, flying through the air. For a moment, he felt frozen in time, as if the stars were going to envelop him, swallow him whole. Just as quickly, the moment was gone. He swung down, gripping onto the knot he made for dear life.

“Please work, please work, please work,” he prayed, over and over as he began to swing down towards the deck. Keith felt a slight tug, then another, and another. He looked up in time to watch the hooks come undone, the sail unfolding in one smooth motion.

“Yes!” he yelled as he swung across the deck, once, twice, like a pendulum of a grandfather clock. Finally, he skidded to a stop, his bare feet streaking across the varnished wood.

Keith looked up to find an unfurled sail and a Shiro-shaped smudge on the main mast.

“Well?” he called out.

Shiro said nothing at first. Then, raising his hand, he gave a thumbs up.

Keith yelled in triumph, pumping his fist in the air.

All the while, Lance stayed where he was, leaning against the bannister, ankles crossed.

“Nice job mullet,” he said, only loud enough for himself to hear.

 

***

 

“But Shiro, I thought I moved past this already?” Keith groaned.

“You may unfurl a sail with a style but that doesn’t undermine a good lesson in responsibility.”

Keith glared at Shiro. “By cleaning a week’s worth of dishes?”

“You can thank Lance for that,” Shiro said, nudging past Keith to greet Hunk in the kitchen.

“Trust me, I will,” Keith muttered.

The past week Lance had been shirking off his cleaning duties, leaving a mess of dirty plates, pots, pans, jugs, you name it, in the storeroom to be cleaned. Apparently, he’d been off trying to impress a certain yellow-haired, crop-top wearing crew member instead.

Keith grumbled under his breath as he caught up with Hunk and Shiro.

“Hey man,” Hunk said. Keith could hear the unspoken apology in his voice.

“Shiro, is there a reason I’m here cleaning Lance’s dishes?” Keith asked.

“There is, actually,” Shiro said. “In a nutshell, it’s your and Lance’s duty to ensure the ship is tidy and in order. Correct?”

“I guess, yeah,” Keith said.

“Which includes the dishes.”

“Yes…”

“So why weren’t you making sure that Lance was doing his job?” Shiro asked.

Keith nearly yelled in frustration. “Because it was Lance’s week to do the dishes! It’s not my fault he wanted to play hooky instead!”

“Yes, but as his fellow crewmate who shares his responsibilities, you should have been checking to see if the job was done.”

“Then I wouldn’t be a very trusting crewmate, now would I?” Keith retaliated. Over Shiro’s shoulder, Keith could see the whites of Hunk’s eyes. He ignored the shocked look on the cook’s face.

“Keith,” Shiro said, oblivious to Hunk, “when the crew has finished their shift and have gone to bed, what do you suppose I do?”

Keith huffed. He was not in the mood for another lecture.

“Keith?” Shiro prompted.

Keith sighed before answering, “You go to sleep too?”

“The opposite,” Shiro said. “I check the engine room to ensure everything is in working order, then come up and walk around the deck to make sure that everything is in its place for the next morning. Then I go up each mast, walk across each yard to check that the rigging is secure, that there’s nothing pulling at the sails that might make them tear. I go through the same checklist every night.”

“But that’s the crew’s job?” Keith interjected.

“Exactly!” Shiro said, his face bursting into a smile. For a second, he looked like a child who’d gotten a difficult Maths sum correct. Or maybe he was the proud teacher. Shiro always seemed to be fluctuating between young and old, naïve and wise. One moment a sense of wonder would dance across his eyes, the next his face would be dead set, voice stern and commanding. Just the other day, Keith had spotted Shiro in a one-on-one conversation with Allura in the hallway. Keith was going to ask to see the map (he’d wanted to check their course, and perhaps just relish the feeling of the map, his map, in his hands). Instead, he came up short. Peeping around the corner, Keith could just see the two of them; Allura’s chin tilted up at a slight angle to meet Shiro’s eyes, Shiro’s head ducked a little to meet hers. They were talking softly, almost in whispers when Allura suddenly burst out laughing. Her hand brushed Shiro’s arm, clutching at the stiff fabric of his jacket sleeve. Shiro chuckled along, but really, he was focused entirely on Allura. All eyes were on her. And again, there was that tender look in Shiro’s eyes. A soft cloud of mist that made his grey eyes turn a shining silver. By the time Allura composed herself, Shiro’s cheeks were tomato red. That’s when Keith left. He felt like he was intruding on something intimate. Something special.

That was the first time Keith saw Shiro acting his own age: a shy twenty-something-year-old with a crush.

Keith brought himself back to the present, focusing on Shiro’s lecture even though he’d much rather be doing anything else.

“It is the crew’s job to ensure the ship is ready for the next day,” Shiro said, “and I go around, double, even triple-checking everything each night not because I don’t trust my crew, but because it is my job. As First Mate, yes, I am to refer the Captain’s orders, see them through. But I am also to ensure the safety and security of everyone on this ship. Just how it is your and Lance’s job to keep the little things, the important ‘not-important’ things in check.”

“So,” Keith said, after a moment of silence, “even though I trust Lance to do his job, I must still make sure his tasks are done as if they were my own?”

“You’ve got it,” Shiro said, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“Then if I’m here making up for Lance’s and, indirectly, my mistake, then how’s Lance serving his time?”

“By re-organising and dusting the Captain’s study, including her extensive library.”

“But she has two walls worth of books!” Keith said.

Shiro only shrugged. “Cleaning dishes doesn’t seem that bad now, does it?”

“Depends,” Hunk piped up. “How squeamish are you around mould?”

Shiro, wincing at Hunk’s comment, clapped Keith on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it.”

 

***

 

Two hours in and Keith was only halfway through.

“I didn’t even know we had these many plates. I mean, who brings porcelain on a ship?” He grumbled.

“Beats me,” Pidge said, only half interested in the conversation. They were busy testing a new function they’d added to Rover.

Keith sighed. He could feel his fingers beginning to shrink, the skin pruning.

“I hope Lance is having half as much fun as I am,” Keith jibed. Sarcasm wasn’t really his thing, but when it was necessary, it was necessary.

“Oh, he definitely is,” Pidge said. Keith could hear their smirk.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I’m not mistaken, I saw him pulling a particularly pretty blonde by the hand into the study with him.”

Keith’s hands froze.

The past month, Keith had become familiar with the exuberant character that was Lance. Yes, he was over the top and only half as charismatic as he made himself out to be, but there were also the quiet moments: after supper, where they’d stay behind and talk to Hunk and occasionally Pidge when Keith could coax them out of their private quarters. They’d sit and chatter away by dim lamplight until late in the evening and Shiro would have to shoo them off to bed. Other times it was out on the deck. The bannister where Keith had gripped Lance in a headlock on their first night had become a certain meeting grounds. When Keith couldn’t sleep, he’d go out there to breathe, to let the cool air wipe away his worries. And, more times than not, Lance would be there waiting for him. They didn’t even talk. They’d just stand there and listen to the far-off echoes of a school of Bezaors or the dead silence that was space. Eventually, they’d wander back to their bunks and the next morning it would be like nothing had ever happened.

Was that all it was? Nothing?

_Snap out of it,_ Keith chastised himself. He was supposed to be mad at Lance for putting him in this situation, not – whatever it was he was feeling. But Pidge’s words swirled in his head. He could picture it, a grinning Lance and a giggling Nyma stowed away in the Captain’s private study, away from prying eyes. Lance leaning in non-too subtly whilst Nyma batted her eyelashes. Maybe their fingers would touch, lightly, just for a second. Or perhaps Lance would brush a strand of hair away from Nyma’s shoulder, kiss the sacred skin of her neck –

No. That couldn’t happen. Lance was all talk only, everyone knew it.

“Are you sure?” Keith croaked.

“Positive,” Pidge said. Keith couldn’t doubt the conviction in their voice.

“Guess all his hard work’s paid off, huh?” Keith said. He could taste the bitterness of his tone like wet coffee grounds.

“What’s gotten into you?” Pidge asked, their attention finally drawn away from Rover.

“It’s nothing,” Keith said, turning back to the mountain of dishes that needed cleaning.

“Nope,” Pidge said, popping the _p_. “You’re not getting away that easy. Talk to Doctor Gunderson, tell me all about it.”

“You’re not a doctor.”

“Excuse me?” Pidge started.

“That kind of doctor,” Keith corrected.

“That’s right, I worked hard for that doctorate and don’t you forget it!”

“How could I, when you keep reminding me?” Keith said, trying to lighten the mood. He wasn’t up for this. Not now. It was one thing to whine about something stupid Lance had done, it was another thing to talk about jealousy. Was that what it was?

“It doesn’t mean I can’t listen though,” Pidge said, joking aside. They always were a curious sort.

Keith sighed. “Honestly Pidge, it’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.” He picked up a large copper pot and started scrubbing. What it once contained, he couldn’t guess.

“About what? Or should I say, who?” Pidge asked, their voice turning sly.

“Pidge!” Keith slammed the pot down into the sink, causing a wave of dirty water to splash down his front. “Please. Just, drop it.”

“Okay,” Pidge said, shocked. “I’m sorry. I just – I don’t like seeing you this way.”

“Like what?” Keith grunted, ignoring the cold patches starting to spread on his chest in favour of scrubbing the hell out of the copper pot. He shivered.

“Bottled up,” Pidge said. It was practically a whisper. Keith’s hands slowed, the scrubbing brush going slack in his fingers.

“I just,” Pidge continued, “I know the pattern. Something bothers you, and you keep it to yourself and you don’t say anything and then you end up doing something stupid and reckless instead of just talking about it.”

“Pidge,” he turned to face them and was met with glowing amber eyes. They were watery with unshed tears. Keith slumped. He wished he could take all the worry off Pidge’s shoulders and put it on his own instead. “Pidge, I promise that if it was serious, I’d tell you. You know I would.” Pidge sniffed, wrinkling their nose.

“That’s not always true,” they murmured.

“I know.”

Pidge sighed, rubbing the corners of their eyes underneath their glasses. “Just promise me you’ll talk to me when it does become serious. Because knowing you, it’ll be serious.”

Keith huffed a soft chuckle. “Even if it’s at two in the morning?”

Pidge scrunched their face up in disgust. “Oh fuck no. Bare your soul at a reasonable time at least,” they said. In a flash, all sadness was gone, replaced with their usual cheeky smile. Their eyes twinkled with mischief and unshed tears.

“Deal,” Keith said.

 

***

 

Lance sighed in relief. He’d just finished re-stacking the last shelf of Allura’s vast book collection. And when Lance said vast he meant too huge to comprehend. How did Allura even find the time to read all those dusty old tomes?

Lance cracked his neck, his knuckles following shortly after. He then stretched his arms high above his head, the hem of his shirt rising a little. It was a pity Keith wasn’t here, he might have appreciated the sight.

Lance froze.

_No. No, no, no, we’re not doing this._

Keith was a no-no subject. Full stop. Lance had decided that if Keith wasn’t going to bother remembering him then he sure as hell wasn’t going to give Keith the time of day. Except for their on-going competition (which Lance was leading by an impressive two points). And their after-supper talks with Hunk and Pidge. And maybe the late-night star gazing… They never spoke those nights, just stood there and became a part of the infinite space around them. Sometimes they’d pass a moon almost as white as Earth’s, and the light would reflect off Keith’s skin and he would just… He’d glow. There was no other way to put it. Keith glowed like a solar flare.

Lance nearly slapped himself.

_Stop it. No poetry, just get yourself together and get the hell out of here._

Lance did one final all-around check before exiting the study. As he was closing the door he felt some resistance, as if someone were tugging it open on the other side. Lance froze, slowly releasing the handle.

There wasn’t anyone with him in the room, not since Nyma left.

_Okay Lance, breathe. Relax, it’s just your imagination._

All the same, Lance couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched, that someone was waiting for him on the other side.

Lance danced on the spot, shaking his hands out. _You’ve got this, you’ve got this. Just some invisible person trying to get out, no big deal. Just get in there and show them who’s boss._

Before he could chicken out, Lance kicked the door open, causing it to crash into the wall on the inside. Lance leapt through the open doorway, holding his hands up karate style, ready for a fight.

"HEE-YAA!"

Nothing.

No one was there. He couldn’t hear anyone breathing, didn’t hear footsteps or feel a brush of fingertips down his neck.

Lance straightened up, brushing off his jacket.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “And stay out!”

When no one gave an answer, Lance took it as a sign to get the hell out of there.

When he closed the door again, there was no resistance. Neither when he locked it and slipped the key into his pocket. Allura would demand its safe return first thing in the morning, and Lance would be more than willing to hand it over. He’d ended up spending roughly four hours in there. He hoped he never had to see that study (or a book) ever again, especially after his (maybe) ghost encounter.

(If he ran out the hallway, no one could prove it.)

As soon as Lance stepped out onto the bridge, he was hit with a shock of cold. He shivered, pulling his army-green coat closer around his chest. He descended the steps to the main deck, ready to collapse into his hammock and fall asleep instantly when his stomach growled.

All that cleaning had taken a lot out of him; it was hard work. And surely Hunk wouldn’t notice if Lance made himself a quick midnight snack? Even if he did, he’d look the other way. Hunk was like a brother. That’s what brothers did.

_And besides,_ Lance thought to himself, _he owes me for ratting me out to Shiro._

Lance skipped down the galley stairs, practically running to the icebox (he’d eat anything at this rate, including frozen foods). That’s when he heard the snoring.

Tucked away in the corner near the sink, Keith was fast asleep. He was slumped over a large bowl, his hair flaring out on the surface. His chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm, his snores breaking the silence. He looked so soft. All that rock-hard stubbornness and iron-strong temper were gone, the slate wiped clean. In its place was a boy, a hard-working, _somewhat_ steadfast boy. A bit of starlight shone through the porthole above the sink, decorating Keith in its radiance.

He was beautiful (even if there was a bit of drool drying on his chin).

Lance walked over slowly, hunger forgotten. This was so rare, to see Keith unshielded. This was an irreplaceable moment.

A small tuft of dark hair fell, the tips tickling Keith’s nose. Lance reached out, wanting to brush it aside, to feel those ink-black strands between his fingers.

Keith stirred, and Lance shot back, scared he’d woken Keith up. Keith only murmured, nuzzling against the bowl before his soft snores filled the room again.

For a minute, Lance considered carrying Keith to his hammock, but that idea was quickly shoved to the side. Lance wasn’t going to kid himself. He may have some lean muscle from earning his share on the Laith, but even he knew there was no chance he was going to make it up those stairs without dropping Keith. Suffice to say, he wasn’t willing to put his life on the line.

Keith’s snoring was interrupted by a bought of shivers. His teeth chattered, his brow furrowing as his body attempted to gain warmth.

He didn’t think twice about it.

Shucking off his coat, Lance laid it over Keith’s shoulders, smoothing it out to get rid of the non-existent wrinkles. When he was finally satisfied, he tiptoed out of the kitchen (though not before grabbing a lumin) and up the stairs, mindful of the one near the top that squeaked.

He hoped, as he snuggled down into his hammock, that Keith was having good dreams.

 

***

 

When Keith woke up the next morning it was to the sound of water being boiled. He shot up and felt something drop off his shoulders. A green coat lay in a puddle by his feet.

He looked up, meeting Hunk’s eye. Hunk gave him a wink then turned to his task of making breakfast.

Keith’s face burned red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the timeline where this story takes place, the Laith embarked on its journey on June 10th. In this chapter, technically, Lance's birthday would have occurred and I was considering writing it in last minute but I'll admit, my depression has decided to rear its ugly head and I haven't been up to anything lately. I am considering writing it as a one-shot though, something short and fluffy. Would you guys be interested in that? 
> 
> Anyway, hope you're enjoying the story so far! Coming up next is the long over-due longboat lesson...


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finally gets to a fly a longboat, Shiro and Allura start cluing in on mysterious going's on on the Laith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter 7 and 8 happened over a span of three months more or less (I know I didn't really make it very obvious but uh, yeah, that's the timeline) making the events of those chapters more like snapshots of the first half of the Laith's journey (think the montage scene in the movie). So yeah. If you're confused or just wanna chat about the fic, hit me up in the comments or on my lame-ass Tumblr @subtlehysteria

“Shiro?”

“Yes, Keith?” Shiro was at the bridge, checking on the crew’s progress through the day’s tasks.

“I was thinking,” Keith started.

“Well that’s never a good sign,” Shiro said with a playful smile.

“Ha, ha,” Keith said, refraining from rolling his eyes. “I was wondering, since I’ve already finished all of my tasks for today and you’ve taught me all there is to know about anything involving rope,” Shiro's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Keith groaned. “You know what I mean,” he muttered. Shiro smirked but indicated for Keith to continue. Keith bit his lip.

“I guess, what I’m trying to ask is if, maybe, we could take the long boat out today?”

He’d been trying to work up the courage all morning to ask Shiro. He’d rehearsed what he was going to say in the hallway mirror, his first and only monologue. He wanted, no, he _needed_ to take that longboat out for a spin. He’d been eyeing it ever since Shiro mentioned it. It always reminded him of the Garrison’s training boats, the feel of the controls under his fingers, how even the smallest twist could be fatal. It was exhilarating, which is why he could no longer wait to see what the real deal would be like.

“Hmmm,” Shiro mused, tapping a finger at his well-defined chin. “I don’t know Keith.” He started walking at a leisurely pace down the quarterdeck’s stairs, Keith not too far behind him. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“Of course! I mean –” Keith stuttered.

_Breathe. It’s just Shiro._

“I think I’ve done well these last three months and I feel I’m prepared to take this next step towards becoming an official crew member.” Keith didn’t know whether he sounded convincing, or stupid. He hoped it was the first one.

Shiro turned to face Keith, meeting his gaze square on. He tapped his chin once, twice, thrice, then shrugged.

“Well, if you think you’re ready.”

_No. Way._

Keith burst with excitement, “Yes! Yes, I am so ready!”

Shiro chuckled, “Well then I guess –”

“Shiro!”

Keith turned to the quarterdeck to find Allura in the doorway. She looked especially stern today, her hair pinned back in a tight coil. “Meet me in my study please, I have a matter of import to discuss with you.” With that, Allura turned on her heel and disappeared down the hallway, coat tails flying behind her.

Keith turned back to Shiro, expectant.

Shiro sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. “I’m sorry Keith. It looks like that lesson’s going to have to take a rain check.”

Keith deflated then quickly recovered. He wasn’t going to act like a spoiled child.

He tried to keep his voice neutral when he said, “It’s alright. You’re the first mate, the captain’s your priority.”

Shiro stepped a little closer, pitching his voice low, “It’s good to see you like this.”

“Like what?” Keith asked, taken aback.

“Mature,” Shiro said with a knowing grin.

Keith rolled his eyes, nudging Shiro playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on to the captain before she gives you a hiding or something.”

“Watch it,” Shiro said, but Keith could see the slight tilt of his lips.

_You’re not fooling anyone, Shiro._

Keith watched Shiro walk up the stairs and speak to Rolo quickly (probably giving him an order) before disappearing into Allura’s study.

Keith sighed. Now he allowed himself to deflate. He knew that whatever Allura needed to discuss was probably more important, but that didn’t make him any less disappointed.

Biting back his frustration, he trudged off to Pidge’s private quarters to see if they had anything diverting to offer. He’d take anything, even a lecture on the possibilities and improbabilities of parallel universes, if it meant a distraction.

He walked past Lance, bumping into his shoulder by accident.

“Hey Mullet, why so down?” Lance called in his usual jovial voice.

“Nothing,” Keith muttered. He wasn’t up for banter. He already felt awkward about the whole jacket business. He still hadn’t returned it to Lance yet, afraid of what he’ll say.

“Okay,” Lance said, cynical.

Keith grit his teeth, “Just –”

_Breathe. Don’t show him anything._

“An over-due longboat lesson got postponed, that’s all,” Keith said over his shoulder. He walked on, determined to get to Pidge’s room before anyone else noticed his sulking.

 

***

 

Lance was left standing on the main deck, brows scrunched, lips pursed in thought. Keith was obviously upset. Something about a trip in the longboat? Lance could feel a sinking feeling in his stomach as he pictured the look on Keith’s face; heavy lidded-eyes, corners of his mouth downward turned. He’d looked so downtrodden, like a dog being slapped for play-fighting a little too rough.

There was no second guessing it. Lance was going to fix this.

 

***

 

Shiro adjusted his jacket and straightened his hat before knocking on Allura’s door.

“Come in,” she called.

Shiro walked in and took off his hat.

“Shiro,” she said, “you know you don’t have to knock every time. I know it’s you.”

“All part of the package, Captain,” Shiro said, closing the door behind him.

“Lock that, won’t you?” Allura said.

Shiro did so then turned to face Allura.

She was behind her desk as usual, although she was sitting sideways in her chair, her long legs dangling over the armrest. She’d also taken out her hairpins, her silver curls cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her jacket was swung across the back of the chair, leaving her in a crisp white shirt and those thigh-length boots she insisted on wearing. Shiro resisted the urge to purr.

He needed to be professional.

Shiro cleared his throat before asking, “What is it that you wanted to see me about, Captain?”

“Allura,” Allura corrected. “I always say you can call me Allura and yet you insist on calling me Captain.”

“It’s all –”

“All part of the package, I know,” Allura said, giving a coy smile. Shiro ducked his head.

Allura opened her mouth, about to talk when her compass shifted an inch to the left. Allura leaned in, eyeing it. Shiro found himself copying her, twisting his hat in his hands.

“You did see that, correct?” Allura said, never taking her eyes off her compass.

“That I did.”

Allura poked it, waiting for a reaction. The compass lay there, unrelenting.

Allura huffed, eyes narrowed. “Anyway,” she said, hesitantly tearing her gaze away from the wayward compass, “the reason I called you is that we’ve had a breach.”

“A breach? Was there a stowaway?” Shiro asked, taken aback. He knew every inch of the Laith by heart, could walk her floors blindfolded and list every piece of rope or barrel there was in perfect order. How could a stowaway possibly have hidden from him?

“Not that kind,” Allura said. She sounded grave. “This,” she said, pulling Keith’s obsidian orb out from her jacket pocket, “has been removed and then put back in my cabinet without my permission.”

“That’s not possible,” Shiro said. “They’d need the key which is always in your possession.”

“Exactly.” Allura jumped up from her chair and walked over to the cabinet that housed the map, chucking the orb up and down as she went.

“If you look closely you can see a few scratches around the lock.” Shiro joined her, bending down to peer at the lock and, sure enough, there were several scratches surrounding the keyhole. Scratches that would never have been there. Allura was too immaculate.

“Someone picked the lock,” Shiro said.

Allura hummed in affirmation. “And the problem is,” she said, looking up at Shiro, “that someone is on this ship and we have no way of telling who it could be.”

 

***

 

“Keith. Keeeeith. Keith!”

Keith mumbled in his sleep, oblivious to Lance. Lance had been trying to wake him up for the past ten minutes. He started with gentle shaking, then, when that didn’t work, a bit of poking. As the frustration set in he felt very strongly about hitting Keith over the head with a bucket. But he couldn’t risk giving him a concussion.

“Keith!” he said, pitching his voice low so as not to wake the rest of the crew. Lance had done that once on his last voyage. Never again.

“Ugh,” Lance groaned. Stupid mullet head. The one time he tries to do something nice and the idiot refuses to wake up from his beauty sleep.

_Ah well. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do._

Lance framed Keith with his thumbs and pointer fingers, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. He needed to get the angle just right.

Once he was satisfied, he stepped back a little and stuck his foot out. If his calculations were correct, which they should be, then if he swung at this particular angle –

Lance gave a great big kick, shoving Keith out of his hammock. Keith made a loud _thump_ as he landed on the hardwood floor.

He popped out from under his blankets, brandishing a knife. Lance leapt back.

“Woah Woah! It’s just me!”

Keith squinted at Lance, brushing his bangs out his eyes.

“Lance? What the fuck do you –”

“Shhh! They’re sleeping,” Lance mocked whispered, indicating the rest of the crew. “Be a little considerate, Mullet.”

“Lance,” Keith said, the sleepiness in his voice long gone, “when I get my hands on you, I’m going to wring your neck.”

“Not when you see the surprise I got you,” Lance grinned.

“A surprise?” Keith said, sounding way too sceptical.

“Follow me and you’ll see.”

“Lance,” Keith groaned, scrubbing a hand through his hair. It was a complete bird’s nest, shaggy and sticky-uppy all over. And still, Lance wanted to run his fingers through it.

“Keith, just, trust me, okay? You’ll like it.”

Keith paused. He looked back at his hammock longingly.

“Don’t even think about it,” Lance said.

Keith sighed, tipping his head back and rubbing his eyes. “Fine,” he said.

“Yes!” Lance pumped a fist and shot up the stairs. “Hurry up! Haven’t got all night. Oh, and, maybe leave the knife behind?”

Keith glared at him.

“Or bring it with.”

 

***

 

Keith was tired. Keith was grumpy. Keith felt like killing someone – a walking twig of a boy for instance.

“Come on,” Lance said, running ahead and then having to stop so Keith could catch up. Keith was going to take his sweet time. If Lance thought it was a good idea to kick people out of their hammocks in the middle of the night and demand they get up on the pretence of a so-called ‘surprise’, he was sorely mistaken. Which is why he deserved to suffer.

“Keeeith!” Lance whined. “Come on! It’ll take us all night at this rate!”

“Well, if that’s the case then we might as well turn back,” Keith said, turning on his heel.

He felt a tug on his arm and before he knew it he was being slung over Lance’s shoulder.

“Lance!”

“Bet you thought I couldn’t pick you up, huh?”

“Put me down!”

“Not until you promise to hurry up!”

Keith didn’t even bother to struggle. He hung his head in defeat. “Fine. I promise.”

“Knew you’d see it my way,” Lance sing-songed before placing Keith down gently onto the deck. Lance then grabbed Keith’s hand and started speed walking.

“Come on!” he said, his voice full of way too much cheer.

“I hate you.”

 

***

 

When they finally entered the docking bay, Keith’s jaw dropped.

“What are we doing here?” he said.

“I’m going to teach you how to fly a longboat. Duh,” Lance said, nudging past Keith.

Keith shook his head. “No, there’s no way I’m letting you of all people show me how to fly.”

“Why not?” Lance asked, making his way to the last longboat.

Keith was completely dead-pan when he said, “Because I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

“Well,” Lance said, shrugging his shoulders, “considering I’m a pretty light-weight guy and you’ve got a decent amount of muscles, I’d say that’s still a pretty good amount of trust between us.”

“I hate you,” Keith said, although he started walking towards Lance.

“You said that already.”

“I know, I’m highlighting it’s import.”

Lance rolled his eyes. Keith was being a grump, but he’d soon perk up.

“Alright,” Lance said, “this is Blue.” He indicated the longboat in front of him. “Blue, Keith. Keith, Blue.”

“You named the longboat?” Keith asked, incredulous.

“Every boat deserves a name,” Lance said, working to undo the first set of knots holding Blue in place.

“Yeah, but, Blue? Really?”

“Okay, don’t laugh,” Lance said, averting his eyes, “but it’s after this stuffed toy I had when I was a kid. That lion was my best friend and ultimate cuddle buddy, so no making fun of the name.”

“You had one too?”

Lance looked up and found a dazed Keith staring down at him, eyes wide as saucers.

“What, you had a toy lion when you were a kid?” Lance asked.

“Yeah,” Keith said, to Lance’s amazement. “Except her name was Red ‘cause, you know... She was red.” Keith scuffed his foot against the floor, finding his boots far more fascinating than looking Lance in the eye.

Lance took a moment to digest this new information. He snapped his fingers. Eureka moment!

“Then she can be Red,” he said.

“What?”

“Longboat number two. I’ve been struggling to find her a name. So, why not Red? They can be a matching pair.”

“Blue and Red are total opposites,” Keith argued.

“And opposites attract,” Lance retaliated.

Keith didn’t have a response.

Lance smirked.

_Lance 2, Keith 0._

“Fine, okay,” Keith said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Where do we start?”

Lance beamed. “Alrighty. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Lance sauntered over to the lever which opened the hangar door below the boats. It groaned and creaked all the way.

“After you.”

Keith scrunched his brows in confusion. His nose wrinkled.

Lance nodded at Blue. “Hop in. Unless you need an escort?” Lance gave a low bow, smiling up at Keith.

Keith scoffed. “I think I can handle stepping into a boat, Lance. You’re looking at the Garrison’s best cadet.”

“I dunno, Mullet,” Lance said, sidling up next to Keith. “You’re probably a little rusty.”

Keith’s eyes turned stone cold grey. “Please.” Keith stepped up to Blue. Slowly, he placed one foot in, testing his balance, before quickly bringing in the other. He stood, blasé, no sign of the usual wobbly knees first-timers suffered from. Keith arched a brow at Lance, lips tugging into a smirk.

Lance cursed under his breath. “Okay, okay, so you’ve got balance. I’ll give you that.”

Lance stepped in after Keith, trying his best not to wobble – he felt his knees buckle just a little when he swung his other foot into the boat, but he managed to cover it up, shifting his weight so he was cocking his hip. He brushed away the non-existent dirt off his shoulders.

“Right,” Lance said. “Let’s get her into the sky.”

It took a while to undo all the knots holding Blue up (Lance guessed Shiro was the last to use her by the looks of them). Keith managed to undo them easy enough and sat waiting with the ropes in hand for Lance to catch up. Lance took his time, ignoring Keith’s smug smile. Once they’d lowered Blue down through the hangar door, Lance switched on the engine. It hummed, smooth as silk. Lance grinned.

“Now for the fun part,” he said, taking a seat at the controls. He beckoned Keith over. Keith hesitated then slowly slunk over to Lance’s side. It was like trying to lure a stray cat with a saucer of milk.

Keith sat next to Lance, looking over his shoulder as he explained the different controls.

“So, this is the gear shift and the steering rod,” Lance said, grabbing hold of the two control sticks on either side of him. He leaned left and right, Blue tilting accordingly. “You wanna go faster, you pull forwards, slow down pull back. Got it?”

Keith nodded. He was cupping his chin, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He was really taking this seriously, taking _Lance_ seriously. Lance could feel his cheeks begin to burn.

He cleared his throat. “Okay, so behind us is the control panel.” Lance turned to look behind him. Keith did the same. Their heads knocked, much to Keith’s annoyance and Lance’s amusement. “Careful, Mullet.” Keith scowled.

Lance shrugged and continued. “Not as state as the art as the one on the bridge but it’s close enough. Here you’ve got your coordinates, a little scanner to show if any obstacles are coming your way, hydraulics, booster button etcetera etcetera.” Lance pointed out each one as he listed it. Keith nodded along, drinking in every bit of information Lance gave him.

“And finally, the sail. I’d call it a solar sail but honestly? I don’t know what this canvas is made of,” Lance said, unfurling the sail. It unfolded in one smooth motion like a lady’s fan (except without all the feathers and sparkles). He fingered the material, watching as it slowly turned blue from the backed-up energy.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Keith said. He caught Lance off guard. It was the first thing he said since they first stepped into Blue. “I’ve asked Pidge about it, but they’re just as confused. Solar sails have visible panels that transfer the sun’s rays into energy. That energy is golden in colour. So why does the Laith’s sails turn blue?” Keith spoke softly, more to himself than Lance.

Lance shrugged. “To be honest, I have no clue. Hunk talked about there maybe being another energy source. He said the colour reminded him of these lamps back on Balmera. They’d shine turquoise, just like these.” He fingered the sail. It was cool to the touch.

Keith hummed under his breath. Lance could see the cogs turning in his brain, trying to solve the unsolvable.

Lance bumped his shoulder with Keith’s, bringing him back down to Earth, or, well… wherever they were.

“Hey man, we learning to fly a longboat or what?”

Keith blinked then ducked his head. “Yeah, sorry.”

Lance finished off his lesson, quickly going through the safety precautions because they were important but not really. By the time he was done, Keith was visibly buzzing in his seat.

“Ready to give it a go?” Lance asked.

“Born ready,” Keith said.

Lance got up, allowing Keith to slide in between the controls. He wiggled a little, getting a feel for it. Lance had to hide his chuckle.

Keith gripped onto the gear stick, checking it was in neutral before turning to the panel behind him. Lance had barely sat down before Keith engaged the hydraulics, causing the boat to shoot forward in a burst of speed. Lance tumbled into his seat, having nearly fallen overboard.

“Keith!” he yelled, clinging to the sides desperately. “Slow down!”

“Why?” Keith called, having to shout over the noise of the engine, “I’m doing everything you told me to.”

“Yeah but –”

Keith didn’t let him finish. Changing gears, he hit the booster button. The boat sped up and Lance felt like he’d just lost five years of his life.

He would have called out to Keith to stop, slow down, do anything, but he was going to throw up if Keith _didn’t stop doing corkscrew spins_. He was going _so fast_. Too fast. He should have been making slow circles around the Laith, not chasing after a comet. _Holy fuck he’s chasing after a comet._

“Keith!” he yelled, shutting his eyes tightly.

“Hold on!” Keith said, driving the boat into the stream. Lance felt the boat rock at the impact but Keith managed to keep it on track, directing it into the center of the star’s wake.

Lance cracked open one eye, then the other. He sat up, loosening his grip on the sides. He looked around and found stardust everywhere. It was sprinkling up and out on either side of them like a water feature, only made of magic. It felt like magic.

Lance dipped his hand in the wake, expecting heat. Instead, he felt ice cling to his fingertips. He brushed his hand off on his breeches and looked at the star in front of them. He had to shield his eyes. Its light was blindingly white.

Lance turned to address Keith. “Hey, Keith, I think –” He stopped.

Keith looked radiant. He was grinning from ear to ear, his face lit up from the starlight. His hair was pulled back by the wind, leaving his neck and cheeks bare. Lance spotted a gold loop in his right ear.

_He has a piercing?_

“You have a piercing?!” Lance yelled.

Keith turned his grin Lance’s way and somehow it widened. “Yeah, I was fifteen, feeling rebellious. The usual shit.”

“How come I never noticed?”

“Probably because you’re not as perceptive as you think,” Keith said, his eyes crinkling as he barked a laugh. “Plus, I hide it behind all my hair.”

“So that’s the origin of the mullet?!” Lance exclaimed.

Keith shrugged. “I guess, yeah.”

Lance was stunned. His mouth went dry, his lungs stopped working. After all this time wondering why the hell anyone would sport such a ludicrous haircut, that was the reason? To hide a _piercing_?

He must have looked ridiculous because Keith barked another laugh. Lance felt his ears turn pink and ducked, looking anywhere but Keith.

They spent a good hour out there, Keith flying like a maniac and Lance enjoying every second of it. It was exhilarating and Lance would never admit it but, Keith really was a natural flyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, the origin story of Les Mullet. Honestly, I don't know if it makes sense but I kept it in anyway ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Langst, Klance and the star Bemusa.

“Careful,” Keith said, pulling the rope as hard as he could to tilt Blue’s nose up.

“Hey, watch it,” Lance said, as he tipped back from the sudden jerk. There was a cheeky grin on his face though.

“Keep up then,” Keith said, grinning back.

Once the longboat was safely secured and the hangar door closed, Lance and Keith retired to Blue’s well-worn seats. Keith sat with his legs up on the pilot’s seat while Lance sat the opposite way, feet on the nose. They met in the middle, using the center seat as a shared head est.

Lance chuckled. “I’ll admit,” he said, “You suck at being a cabin boy, but you know how to fly.” Keith smacked Lance’s arm.

“You know what I mean!” Lance said in defence. “If I could have flown like that back at the Garrison, the teachers would’ve been bowing at my feet.”

Keith chuckled, “Yeah, well, they weren’t really singing my praises back then.”

“Yeah…” Lance tapered off.

Keith stiffened. Even though he didn’t remember him, Lance would have been at the Garrison around the time Keith got expelled. He was probably just as clueless as the rest of the student body. Pidge had told him about all the rumours, they ranged from petty to downright ridiculous. And yet it was so simple. Keith had spent every waking minute toeing the line and then he’d just taken a step too far. Iverson finally saw his threats through. He expelled Keith, reason being ‘disciplinary issues’. It was funny, how the truth was in front of them, was so obvious, and yet the students of the Galaxy Garrison chose instead to feed off rumours and myths. Keith wondered if Lance was one of them.

Keith cleared his throat, hoping to change the subject.

“But I’m gonna change all that,” he said, bringing his arms up and using them as a pillow. _Act natural, play it cool._

“That so?” Lance asked though he sounded a little tentative.

“Yep. I’ve got big plans.”

Lance went quiet.

Keith waited a moment, wondered if he’d said something wrong. He was about to ask as much when Lance spoke up. “Well, you know, sometimes plans change.”

Keith tilted his head back, trying to read Lance’s face. He could see the arch of his nose, the sweep of eyelashes and a corner of a mouth. But not his eyes. Not those piercing, ocean-blue eyes.

“What do mean?”

Lance hesitated, his head ducking down.

Keith thought back to Shiro, their conversation in the crow’s nest. He didn’t need to see Lance’s face to know he had that same look in his eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Keith said quickly. He didn’t want to force Lance to talk, not if he wasn’t ready – even if Keith was dying to know something, anything about Lance. Ironic, really. Keith wanted to know everything there was to know about Lance, yet he wasn’t ready to say anything about himself. Pidge would probably smack him upside the head if they could see him now.

“It’s not bad or anything,” Lance said, “Just, kinda sad, I guess. But I’m okay telling it. That is if you want to hear my tale of woe,” Lance said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Keith hesitated. Was Lance really okay with telling his story, or did he feel compelled to?

Keith shuffled back, bringing his knees to his chest. He could see Lance better this way. Could meet his eyes if he wanted to; read his lips and see the soft crinkles in his forehead.

Lance took that as a yes.

“So,” he started, putting on his charismatic voice, “even though you don’t remember me, I was at the Garrison the same year as you.”

Keith tried not to flinch. He still felt bad about that. Every time he saw Lance’s face he’d think back, try and picture Lance in the orange Garrison uniform. But he couldn’t see it. He just saw Lance now, the free-lancing cabin boy with too much confidence and not enough logic. He was just… Lance.

“And you dropped out when we were around sixteen,” Lance said, matter-of-fact.

“I was expelled,” Keith said, a little snappier then he meant to.

“Right, sorry,” Lance said, giving a weak smile. “No one ever knew why actually, teachers refused to give the details.” Lance met Keith’s eyes and for a moment, Keith thought he might be fishing for answers. Then Lance gave a sly smile and shrugged his shoulders, “But, I guess that’s something you’ll take to the grave, huh?”

Keith breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

_Not tonight._

“And Pidge,” he said, unable to hide his smile at the mention of his friend’s name.

Lance gasped, looking absolutely mortified. “That little rat! How do they always get the bigger scoop!”

“Lance –” Keith started, but Lance just spoke over him.

“I mean they hardly ever get out of their room unless it’s to eat or see Rover and I just don’t –”

“Lance!” Keith said a little louder than expected.

Lance clamped his mouth shut. He chuckled nervously. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck, “rambling.”

Keith found himself chuckling as well. “It’s okay, carry on with your ‘tale of woe’.”

“Oh right,” Lance said. He straightened up and turned around, crossing his legs. He placed his elbows on the seat and cradled his head in his hands. “So, technically, I was a cargo pilot before you left.”

“Really?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, I just scraped through the trials and managed to get a slot. To me, it was the best thing in the world. I got accepted into the Garrison! And, you know, I figured I could maybe sidle my way into the fighter class after a year or two. Which I did,” he coughed. “After you left.”

Keith furrowed his brows in thought. Lance had said they had a rivalry back at the Garrison. Was this a part of it?

“I mean, I was so ready to prove myself,” Lance said, keeping his voice chipper. “I worked hard to keep my place, studied every night for the tests, snuck a few extra hours with the test-flight boats.”

Keith hummed at that. It reminded him of his little excursions in the night, unable to sleep, restless with energy to do _more._ He’d always felt bored in his lessons, especially the practical ones. _I know all of this_ , he’d want to say. _Teach me the real stuff now._

“But, it wasn’t good enough.” Lance’s voice wobbled, losing its brightness. “At the end of the year, Iverson called me to his office and said I wasn’t cut out for the Galaxy Garrison. ‘Your talents lie elsewhere,’ and all that jazz. And he was so brusque about it, I mean, you know how he is.”

Keith nodded. Yeah, he knew exactly how severe Iverson could be. He couldn’t imagine that meeting, being told that all your hard work was for nought. Pack up your bags and leave, your services are no longer required. He felt something heavy settle low in the pit of his stomach.

“He’d organized a lift home for me, gave me the letter to give to my parents, the bastard.” Lance shook his head. Keith watched as his eyes turned dark, a knot burrowing its way between his thin-arched eyebrows. “I’d write to my mom almost every week to say how well I was doing, how I was going to make her proud, all of them. I have three older siblings who’ve all done the most amazing stuff. Like, Antonio? He’s a lawyer, and a good one. And my sister owns her own business. She’s the head of the company. And then you get me. The disappointment.” Lance hung his head with a frustrated huff. He dropped his arms so they lay on the seat, his head resting in the crook of his arm. “I was going to make them see me, see my potential, and instead I was going to show up at the end of the school year with a letter that said I just wasn’t good enough. _Sorry, your son is a failure_.”

Keith tried to think of something to say, but Lance continued talking as if Keith wasn’t even there anymore. Keith remained silent.

“I couldn’t let that happen. Not after all the money they spent on that school, on me. So, like any fool, I burned the damn expulsion letter. Instead, I wrote to my mom, said I was staying at the Garrison for the summer for some extra courses. I just… I couldn’t show my face back home. One look and she’d know I was lying. It’s easier to lie on paper.

“I decided that, if the Garrison wasn’t gonna let me fly, then I just had to find another way. I bought a ticket to the Garrison Space Port and managed to get a few jobs here and there, and then a spot on the Laith opened up and,” he shrugged as if that were answer enough. “I’ve been sending letters to her still, telling her how well I’ve been doing at the Garrison.”

“What?” Keith blinked. He turned in his seat so he was facing Lance properly. “She still thinks you’re in the Garrison?”

“What else was I supposed to say? ‘Hey mamá, I flunked out of school and now I’m working as a cabin boy for spare change. Hugs and kisses, your failure of a son, Lance!’”

“You’re not a failure,” Keith said without thinking.

“Says the guy who got expelled.”

Keith shrunk back. Lance sat up, his face falling. “That was rude,” he said, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Yeah, no shit,” Keith muttered, refusing to meet his eye.

Lance scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Keith didn’t respond. He wasn’t mad, not really. Lance was lashing out, and usually, Keith would have a spit-fire response but right now… it didn’t feel right.

“You know, by now we’d both be starting senior year, stressing over homework and solo flights. If we were still there,” Lance said.

Keith nodded. “I’ve thought about that a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Lance sighed. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do when graduation day comes and my mom doesn’t get an invite. That’s why I need this job. I need to prove to them that I can be successful, just, not in the way they thought.” Lance hung his head once more. “Stars, I’ve really dug myself in deep this time.”

Keith chuckled, although there was no humour in it. “Guess we’re in the same boat.”

Lance looked up, meeting Keith’s eye. There was a question there, a careful prodding. Lance had given so much of himself away… Keith knew he should return the favour, he just… he wasn’t good at this kind of stuff.

_Then maybe now is the time for practice._

“These last few years I’ve been living with my foster mom, Ms. Raqa,” Keith said. “She runs an inn on the outskirts of town. It’s called The Red Lion, ironically.” Lance snorted. Keith grinned. “Pidge lives nearby as well, in their mansion.”

“They have a mansion!” Lance said, his eyes bugging out his head. Keith nodded.

“With their own personal observatory,” he added.

“Holy shit. The gremlin is rich.”

Keith chuckled. “It helps when your family are well-renown astronomers.”

Lance nodded. “True, true. But you were saying, foster mom?”

_Right. Life story._

“Uh, yeah, um. I’ve lived with her since I was around thirteen and I’ve caused her… I’ve caused her a lot of grief. I mean, me being me, I’m… I just –”

Keith felt a hand settle on his own. His looked down to find Lance giving his hand a small squeeze. Freckles spread out across the back of his hand like constellations, disappearing up into the billowy sleeves of his shirt. There was a bright purple stain on his collar.

“You want to prove yourself,” Lance offered.

Keith nodded. “Yeah. I want to help her, too. She deserves so much more than that dingy little inn. She’s been wanting to build up, make it fancier, but she doesn’t have the money. Especially with all the fines and the Garrison tuition –”

“Fines?”

Keith retracted his hand, crossing his arms. He blew his bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah. Let’s just say, I know the cops pretty well by now.”

Lance burst into laughter. At Keith’s questioning look he said, “Sorry man, sorry, it’s just. That’s such a Keith thing t-to do!”

“A what?”

“A Keith thing,” Lance said before crossing his arms and giving an exaggerated pout. He narrowed his eyes, slumping his shoulders so badly, it was almost as if he had no neck at all.

“I don’t do that!” Keith exclaimed, incredulous.

Lance only laughed harder. “Hate to break it to you Mullet, but yeah, you do.”

Keith scrunched his hands in his leather jacket, could feel a pout coming on, but then he realized he was doing the “Keith pose”. He uncrossed his arm, letting his hands lay limply in his lap instead. Lance’s laughter finally died down and they were left in a semi-comfortable silence.

“So, yeah,” Lance said, beaming up Keith. “I guess we both have tales of woe.”

Keith coughed, clearing away the saltiness in his throat.

“You okay?” Lance asked, placing a hand on Keith’s back.

“Yeah, just, dry throat,” Keith said, wrinkling his nose.

“You’re not getting choked up, are you?” Lance said, his sly grin making a come-back.

“No way,” Keith said, knocking Lance’s hand off his back. It left a warm patch, causing heat to trickle down his spine. Keith shivered.

“Okay, okay,” Lance said, putting his hands up in surrender. He met Keith’s eyes. A flash of mischief was Keith’s only warning before he was being tackled to the floor of the boat. Keith struggled under Lance’s weight, spindly limbs flying all over the place. Lance was chuckling, and Keith was trying so hard not to laugh, but it was difficult when Lance was tickling him mercilessly.

“Come on, Mullet! Turn that frown upside down!” Lance laughed, trying to reach the sensitive spot underneath Keith’s armpits.

“Lance! After this you are – you’re so dead” Keith cried out between laughs.

“Oh, what? Sorry Keith, can’t hear you over all these giggles!”

Keith was gasping for breath, both from laughing and trying to defend himself from Lance. It wasn’t working.

“You’re going – to regret this!” Keith said as he tried to make a grab at Lance’s wrist.

“Oh really?” Lance said a smug grin on his face.

Keith returned the grin as he hooked his leg around Lance’s waist, catching the boy off guard.

Lance barely managed to let out a startled “Hey!” before he was flipped over onto his back. Keith grabbed Lance’s wrists, planting them on either side of his head.

“Dude!” Lance said.

“Yeah?” Keith replied, feigning innocence.

“Okay one, ow!” Lance said, shaking a bit of fringe out of his face, “And second, where did you learn to do that?”

“I’ve been around,” Keith said, quirking his lips.

Lance narrowed his eyes, trying to look peeved (although Keith could see the corner of his mouth twitching).

“Stupid Mullet,” Lance muttered.

“Uh, sorry? Who’s on top of whom, exactly?”

“Pure luck!” Lance said, sticking his nose up haughtily.

“No way!” Keith said, “I got you fair and square!”

“You cheated!” Lance argued.

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did no–”

“Uh, Keith?” Lance said, suddenly quiet, “You’re kinda close.”

Keith blinked. He was nose to nose with Lance, his eyes struggling to focus. But somehow, he managed to spot the freckles. Hundreds of them were splattered across Lance’s nose, little pinpricks, hardly noticeable.

“Your freckles are pretty.”

Lance’s eyes widened.

_Oh shit._

Keith jumped back and scrambled to the nose of the boat, giving Lance a good bubble of space.

“Uh, sorry,” Keith mumbled, ducking behind his bangs.

Keith waited a beat, then started counting to ten, trying to even out his breathing.

“S’okay,” Lance finally said, barely audible.

Keith peeked out from underneath his bangs. Lance was still there, up on his elbows now, with his legs tucked awkwardly. He was peering back at Keith, head tilted slightly to the side, a strange look on his face.

“I –”

“ALL HANDS ON DECK! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! EVERYONE WAKE UP, GET GOING!”

Keith startled at the sound of Shiro’s voice, a whistle blowing shrilly up above.

Hunk suddenly appeared in the doorway, panting, his hair a mess. He was still in his pyjamas.

“There you are!” he said, clutching his chest as he gasped for breath, “Everyone’s needed on deck.”

“Why, what’s going on?” Lance asked, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

“I don’t know the exact details but I’m guessing it’s code ZX4.”

Keith sent a questioning look to Lance, hoping for an explanation.

Lance shared a look with Hunk then turned to face Keith. His face was dead-set, no humour in his eyes when he said, “ZX4. It means a star’s gone supernova.”

 

***

 

It was complete chaos on the main deck. Crew members were scrabbling everywhere, half-dressed having just been woken up. Everyone was slipping and sliding across the deck, the ship being throttled by great gusts of wind.

Keith spotted Pidge up on the bridge, darting from one screen to another with Rover hovering around their head. They seemed to be having a conversation, Pidge listing stats for Rover to analyse.

“Pidge!” Keith yelled, grabbing their attention, “What’s going on?”

“There you are! Where were you? I was worried sick, I thought –”

“Pidge!” Lance shouted, “Status report first, worry later!”

“Right!” Pidge said, turning their attention back to the screens. “The star Bemusa’s gone supernova!”

“Shit,” Lance muttered.

A flash of pink rushed past Keith, knocking him into Lance.

“Evasive action, Rolo!” Allura called, making her way up to the bridge. She wasn’t in her usual Captain’s jacket and boots, but rather a flowing pink nightgown. She looked like an angel in hell’s fire.

“Aye-aye, Captain!” Rolo said through gritted teeth. Keith could see he was struggling to keep the wheel steady.

“All hands fasten your lifelines!” Shiro called, heading to the mainsail.

“Come on,” Lance said, pulling Keith behind him. But his feet didn’t want to move. They were rooted to the spot. His legs began to shake, his shoulders squishing up to his ears. He felt as if he’d lost complete control of his body as if he were frozen. “What –” Keith startled.

“Keith, it’s okay,” Lance said as he dragged Keith to the mainmast. How did he manage to do that when Keith’s feet were cement blocks? “Grab a rope and tie yourself in,” Lance said, handing Keith a length of rope and pointing to the wooden spoke sticking out from the main mast. “Make sure it’s secure on both ends. This knot means life or death, got it?”

Keith nodded and did as he was told, his hands shaking the entire time. He’d done these knots a million times with Shiro, enough for calluses to act as a shield against rope burn, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember a single thing. Was it under then over, or maybe through then under? No, it was –

“Keith.” Keith felt someone grip his shoulder. He turned to find Shiro who was dressed impeccably as always, hat and all. He looked so calm, the only stable object in this mess of a storm.

“Look at me,” he said, cupping Keith at the back of the neck, bringing him in close. “You can do this. Patience yields focus.”

“Patience yields focus,” Keith murmured.

“That’s right,” Shiro nodded, giving a reassuring smile. “You know what you’re doing, you know this ship inside and out. You’ve got this.” It wasn’t a question but Keith nodded anyway.

“Good. Now, secure your lifeline and get going, we need as many hands as possible.” Shiro’s calm façade broke for a moment. His voice sounded a little uneasy, his eyebrows furrowing with worry as he glanced up at the quarterdeck. Allura was shouting orders at Rolo whilst also conversing with Pidge, who was still running about between the screens, glasses flashing with blue and white lights.

“Shiro,” Keith said.

Shiro turned to face Keith, scar ablaze in the orange light.

“We’ll be fine,” Keith said, certain.

Shiro smiled. “I know you’ll be.” That wasn’t what Keith meant but Shiro was off, running to Allura to get his next set of orders before Keith could say anymore.

“Shiro! Secure those sails!” Allura yelled.

“Secure all sails!” Shiro referred, watching as the Galra started climbing up the rigging.

“Come on,” Lance said, pulling Keith to the bow. Two sails were secured to the bowsprit (a long piece of wood that protrudes from the bow and narrows at the tip, almost like a unicorn horn), meaning Lance and Keith would have to walk the length to untie the ropes so the rest of the crew up top could bring the sails in. On any normal day, Keith’s stomach would churn as he balanced along the beam. Add red hot fireballs and a wind that could blow a full-grown cow over, and Keith was on the brink of being sick.

“Don’t worry!” Lance said, yelling over the wind, “You’ve got this! You’ve got fish hooks for toes, remember?” he grinned. Of all the times to make a joke.

“I’ll go first,” Lance said, reading the worry in Keith’s eyes.

“No,” Keith said, putting an arm out to stop Lance. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” Pushing past Lance, Keith hopped up onto the bowsprit and headed towards the rope near the end.

“Thought as much,” Lance said with a smile, right behind Keith.

Keith steadied himself, measuring his breaths as we walked to the end of the bowsprit. He banished the fear of falling to the back of his mind and focused on the rope in front of him. There was a pulley system which required two sets of hands to lower the jib sail. Keith would have to loosen the rope and pull it while Lance turned the handle of the pulley halfway down the bowsprit.

“Patience yields focus. Patience yields focus,” Keith said, over and over again until he made it to the rope. He clung fast to it and glanced back. Lance arrived at the pulley and gave Keith a thumbs up.

Keith unfastened the rope and started pulling, the sail beginning to fold closed. It was halfway there when Keith started to feel resistance. He pulled harder, but the rope only tugged back. Keith spared a quick glance at Lance and saw that he was struggling with the pulley. It was jammed. Keith was trying to think how he could secure the rope so he could go back and help Lance when a fireball flew past. The pulley blew up in Lance’s face causing him to stumble back. He lost his footing, tipping over the yard. His safety line was cut cleanly in half, slipping through his fingers. He was going to fall. He was going to fall and he wasn’t going to come back. He –

Keith ran, grabbing hold of what was left of Lance’s safety line. Lance’s weight pulled him forward, his feet skidding uselessly across the yard. But Keith held fast, ignoring the rope burn on his palms, the heat of fireballs whizzing past him one after another. He had to stay secure. He had to help Lance.

Keith widened his stance, making sure his feet were planted firmly before he started pulling on the rope. He pulled and tugged until he saw Lance grapple at the bowsprit. He got a grip and started hoisting himself up. Keith didn’t stop pulling until Lance was safe back upon the bowsprit.

Lance was breathing deeply through his nose, his eyes wide in shock.

“Lance. Lance, It’s okay, you’re okay,” Keith said, cupping Lance’s face. Lance’s hands were shaking as they bunched in Keith’s shirt. He looked up and met Keith’s gaze, and then all tension was gone. He blinked a couple of times until his eyes focused, no longer clouded over with fear.

His mouth moved but Keith couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“What?” Keith yelled.

Lance pulled Keith closer until his mouth was on Keith’s ear. “I said we make a good team!”

Keith pulled back to find a smiling Lance.

_Okay, so that just happened._

Keith wanted to ask questions, wanted to ask Lance “Why now?” but was interrupted when the ship jerked to the side. Keith and Lance clung to one another, waiting out the wave. The boat eventually rocked back into its neutral position.

“Perhaps we should get off this flimsy piece of wood, yeah?” Lance said with a nervous laugh.

“Agreed,” Keith said before helping Lance up.

Keith started on his way back to the main deck when he felt Lance pull at the back of his shirt.

“Lance, come on. I thought we agreed that –” and then he saw it.

A gigantic meteor was heading straight towards the ship. The Laith looked like a speck of dust in comparison. Already, Keith could feel the heat burning his skin.

Varkon, who was busy on the canon blaster, attempted to shoot at the meteor to break it apart. To no avail. Once he realised he was making no impact he abandoned his post and scampered off to hide.

Like that was going to do anything.

Lance shielded his eyes from the bright red light. He still had Keith’s sleeve clutched firmly between his fingers.

 _This is it,_ Keith thought as the meteor came closer and closer, lazily descending towards the Laith.

_I’m going to die here._

Keith turned to Lance, words he didn’t know how to say on the tip of his tongue when the heat started to recede. He turned back and watched as the meteor retreated. It flew backwards, becoming smaller and smaller until it disappeared entirely.

“Holy quiznack!” Lance yelled.

“Come on,” Keith said, coming back to his senses. “We need to get back to the main deck.”

“Right, right,” Lance agreed as he followed Keith off the yard. Keith breathed a sigh of relief when they landed back on the deck. After having set up a new lifeline for Lance, Lance secured Keith’s hand in his own, pulling him to the helm to see what their next orders would be. Keith glanced up and saw the last of the sails being folded up and secured. Lotor was easy enough to spot with his white shock of hair. Keith glared at him as they passed underneath him. Neither Lotor nor Sendak had made any conspicuous moves after their first introduction, but that didn’t mean Keith was going to drop his guard.

When they reached the helm, Keith spotted Hunk. He was still in his yellow striped pyjamas, although he’d slung a jacket on and managed to tie his hair back with his usual orange headband. He was at Pidge’s side, assessing one side of the screens while Pidge and Rover read the other. Another gust of wind came up, causing Keith’s hair to come loose from its ribbon. He spat out the strands that caught in his mouth.

“Captain!” Keith turned when he heard Hunk’s voice. He wasn’t looking at the screens anymore but rather pointing out to the storm. “The star!” he yelled. His voice shook, hands trembling. Keith remembered Hunk saying he suffered from motion sickness. He could only imagine what Hunk was feeling right now.

Pidge looked up from their set of screens to follow Hunk’s line of sight. They gasped.

“Doctor, what is it?” Allura called. Her hair wasn’t in its usual updo, but rather loose, causing silver strands of hair to fly behind her like a set of angel wings.

“It’s devolving to uh – uh –” Pidge stuttered.

“A black hole!” Hunk finished for them, his face drained of all colour. He looked as if he was about to faint.

“Great,” Lance said, all sarcasm.

“Lance, not helping!” Keith said.

Allura attempted to shake Pidge out of their trance, trying to get information out of them while Rolo struggled with the wheel.

“We’re being pulled in!” he yelled as his feet slipped out from under him.

Allura ran to the wheel, knocking Pidge off their feet in the process. “Not on my watch!” she gritted out, struggling to straighten the wheel.

Keith felt a shift in gravity as the ship lurched forward, flying at a high speed towards the center of the star. Swirls of star matter surrounded them, creating an ocean of orange. The ship began to spin. Hunk’s face turned green.

“Hunk! Get out of here before you cause a mess!” Lance called.

“I’m f-fine!” Hunk said, not the least bit convincing.

Keith was about to make his way up to the helm (Pidge was still sprawled on the floor) when he was knocked off his feet by another gust of wind. He watched as a large ball of flame spurted out from the center of the star, creating a mushroom of red and yellow smoke.

“Blast these waves!” Allura yelled as she still struggled with the wheel, “They’re so deucedly erratic!”

“No captain!” Pidge called out. Having scrabbled for the counter framing the helm, they’d managed to pull themselves back up to their feet. “They're not erratic at all. There'll be one more in precisely forty-seven point two seconds. Followed by the biggest wave of them all!”

Allura’s face lit up. Keith knew that look. It was the look he got when he’d just figured out a totally reckless, most likely improbable solution for something. On Allura, it looked highly bewitching.

“Of course! Brilliant Doctor!” she exclaimed, a wicked smile splitting her face from ear to ear. “We’ll ride that last wave out of here!”

“Are you sure that’s really safe, I mean, there’s a lot of setbacks to this plan –” Hunk piped up, swaying to and fro. Any minute and his legs would surely give out.

“It’s the only option Hunk. Unless you prefer being cooked to a crisp!”

That seemed to bring Hunk back to earth as he immediately rejoined Pidge at the screens, head ducked down, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Shiro appeared at the bottom of the helm. Keith looked down at Shiro’s waist, following his safety line all the way back to the main mast. His knot looked secure, although it could probably do with a bit of fastening.

“All sails secured, Captain!” Shiro called, cupping his hands around his mouth to be heard over the wind.

“Good!” Allura said. There was a mad glint in her eyes, a determinedness that couldn’t be ignored as she said, “Now, release them immediately!”

Shiro faltered for a moment, but then recollected himself.

“Aye, Captain,” he said, giving a salute. He turned to the crew who had just climbed down from the masts.

“You heard her! Unfurl those sails!”

The Galra yelled in protest. The orange woman who Keith now knew as Ezor squawked in indignation. Lotor stepped forward, white hair whipping about his face. “But we just finished tying them down!”

Shiro returned Lotor’s quip with a stone-cold glare.

Lotor looked as if he had a response prepared, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder and pushed him back towards the rigging. Sendak returned Shiro’s gaze before leading the rest of the crew up to the masts again.

Shiro made to join them when Keith grabbed a hold of his jacket sleeve.

“Shiro, wait!”

“Keith, I’ve got to –”

“Listen, I didn’t tell you this before, but you need to watch out for –”

“Keith!” Allura called, tearing his attention away from Shiro.

“Tell me afterwards!” Shiro said, slipping out of Keith’s grasp.

“No, Shiro!” but Shiro was already halfway up the rigging, on his way to help unfurl the sails.

“Lance,” Keith turned only to find empty space beside him. Lance must have gone up as well, it was to be expected.

“Keith!” Allura called again. Keith looked up at Allura. “Make sure all lifelines are secured good and tight!” she said.

It was such a small thing, almost minuscule compared to what the rest of the crew was doing, risking their lives upon the masts. But it was necessary.

“Aye-aye, Captain!” Keith called, doing a one-eighty and heading to the main mast where all the life-lines were tied. He pulled on each rope, tightening the knot until he could feel his fingers begin to blister. He did Shiro’s first, then Lance’s. Pidge, Allura, Hunk. He ticked off the names in his head, even Lotor and Sendak. He saved himself for last.

He waved his hand to catch Allura’s attention. “Lifelines secured, Captain!” he called.

“Good!” she yelled in response, her focus immediately drawn back to the wheel trying to escape her grasp.

Keith looked up and watched as the crew unfurled the sails. He spotted Lance easily in his stark-white shirt – the purple stain on his collar was visible even at this distance – and did a quick double check on his new lifeline. He was secure. He then searched for Shiro, looking for a glint of silver, a shock of white. That’s how he saw Lotor. His hair was blinding, reflecting the bright orange of the star. Sendak was working at his side, his bionic arm making easy work of the task at hand. And then Shiro was there, heading past Sendak and Lotor to the end of the yard.

Keith wanted to call out, to warn him, but there was no point. Keith could barely hear himself, there was no way Shiro could hear him all the way up there. Keith tugged on Shiro’s lifeline. The knot was secure. Keith tugged again for good measure.

“Captain!” Pidge called out, catching Keith’s attention. “The last wave!”

Keith looked up and sure enough, they were nearing the center of the star. Only there was nothing there, nothing but a big empty space. A black hole.

“Keith!”

Keith felt two arms wrap around him, pushing him onto the main mast.

“What the –”

“Keith!” It was Lance. Lance, with his arms around Keith, securing him to the mast, shielding him from the wind and the heat and the noise. He leaned down, lips brushing Keith’s ear as he yelled, “Trust me!”

Keith pulled back to meet Lance’s eyes. His freckles were lit up like stars and for the first time, Keith saw specks of brown in Lance’s eyes. Keith couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped his lips. He swallowed thickly.

“I trust you!” Keith said.

He gripped Lance’s arm and changed their position, so that one arm was slung around Lance’s waist and the other was wrapped around the mast, shielding Lance as well. “Now trust me!” Keith said.

Lance flashed Keith a quick smile and nodded, tightening his grip on Keith’s hip. It felt so out of place with what all was happening around them.

Faintly, in the background, Keith heard Allura yell, “Hold on to your lifelines everyone! It’s going to be a bumpy ride!”

He saw a glint of silver in his peripheral vision and then –

Darkness.

 

A burst of orange.

The loud, echoing boom of an explosion.

Heat of a thousand suns burning at the back of his neck.

And then, a great upheaving jerk forward as the ship’s jets went full throttle.

 

Keith’s stomach lurched as the ship flew out of the black hole, riding a great wave of fire. He could feel the small hairs on the back of his neck being singed but he didn’t care because it was working. Allura’s plan was working. They were out of the black hole, away from the sea of orange and the scorching heat. They’d escaped. They were safe.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone deals with the aftermath of the storm in their own ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Sorry in advance.

The main deck erupted into a burst of cheers. Everyone was celebrating, throwing their fists into the air and hollering out a mix of, “We did it!”, “We made it!”, “Thank the stars!”.

“Captain!” Pidge called, untangling themselves from the pile of rope they’d toppled into from the impact. “That was absolutely – That was the most –”

“Oh tish-tosh,” Allura said, waving away Pidge’s praises in favour of looking at consulting her compass. She hummed in approval before flipping the lid shit. “Actually Doctor,” she said, “your astronomical advice was most helpful.”

Pidge adjusted their glasses, a pleased grin quirking their lips. “Why thank you.”

Allura gave them a knowing smile and a sly wink. It was the first time Keith had seen Allura smile at anyone other than Shiro.

“Is it over? Am I dead?” Hunk groaned, pawing at the bannister from his fetal position down on the floor. Pidge rushed to help him up.

“Yes,” they said, all seriousness. “Welcome to the afterlife, where you relive your death over and over again.”

“What!” Hunk spluttered, his colour draining, eyes wide as saucers.

Pidge burst out laughing. “I’m just kidding, Hunk. We’re safe.”

“Okay, that’s it!” Hunk said, as he slowly pulled himself up to a standing position. His legs were wobbling, knees knocking. “No more herzoffen stew!” Pidge only laughed more, knowing it was an empty threat.

Keith peered at Lance who was still clinging to Keith for dear life. “Lance,” Keith said, bumping his hip with Lance’s. “Lance, it’s okay. We’re safe.”

Slowly, Lance opened one eye, then another. He locked eyes with Keith and then he grinned. “Told ya you could trust me,” he said, neatly extracting himself from the mast.

“Yeah, just like how you can trust me,” Keith countered.

“Yeah, but you could trust me first!” Lance said, poking Keith in the chest.

“Seriously? We’ve just escaped a black hole and you’re already making a competition of it? I saved your life! We had a bonding moment!”

Lance tapped his chin in thought. “Hmmm, nope. Don’t remember that.”

Keith’s jaw dropped. No way, there was no way this was happening.

“Lance! –”

“Congratulations Keith!” Allura called, turning Keith’s attention back to the bridge. “You did a fantastic job with those lifelines.”

Lance nudged Keith playfully as if to say _good job._

Keith glared at Lance in return.

_You’re not getting off that easily._

“All hands accounted for Shiro?” Allura said, making her way down to the main deck.

No response.

“Shiro?” she called, uncertainty tinging her voice.

The crew began to murmur then just as quickly died down. The crowd parted, revealing Lotor, his hair swishing behind him as he made his way to Allura. His was face was downcast.

“I’m afraid Mr. Shirogane has been lost,” he said as he handed something over to Allura. It was Shiro’s hat.

_No._

“His lifeline was not secured,” Lotor said, cutting his gaze to Keith. There was a harsh glint in his blue eyes, his cheek twitching from trying not to grin.

“No! I checked them all!” Keith said. Turning back to the main mast, he ran around its perimeter, counting one secure lifeline after another only to find an empty spoke, no rope in sight.

“I – I did,” Keith faltered. “I checked them all. They were secure,” with each word he became less and less convinced. Images of the storm flashed behind his eyes. Did he miss Shiro’s knot? Did he really forget just one, the most important one?

_Shiro._

Keith turned back to the crowd. They were all staring at him. Pidge caught his eye and all he saw was pity.

“I swear,” Keith whispered, but the fight in his words had drained to nothing.

Silence enveloped the ship, a cold harsh blanket wrapping tightly around them all.

Eventually, Allura cleared her throat, drawing the attention back to her, although a few gazes lingered on Keith. “Shiro was a –” she faltered, then took a deep breath before continuing, “a good man. A great one, in fact. If one could amount to even half of his courage, his kindness, then they would be considered blessed.” All the while, Allura turned Shiro’s hat in her hands, her fingers grazing the gold trim gently, lovingly. “But he knew the risks, as do we all.” She met Keith’s eyes and he was immediately drowned in guilt. He ducked his head.

“Resume your posts,” Allura said, official, “We carry on.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and made her way up the stairs to her study. She closed the door softly behind her, a barely audible _click_ resounding in the hollow silence of the ship.

All eyes turned back to Keith. Some glares, others questioning. Lotor was smirking, the look in his eyes downright malicious. Keith didn’t even try to meet Lance’s eyes.

He couldn’t take it.

Keith ran up the stairs two at a time, heading for the opposite hall where he knew Pidge’s private quarters would be. He saw a flash of green and knew Pidge was right behind him. But he didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to see anyone. Not Pidge, nor Hunk, nor Lance. No one. Not unless they were Shiro.

He slammed the door in their face, locking it on instinct before sliding down the door. He pulled his knees to his chest. He could feel Pidge banging on the door, could hear them struggling with the handle. He ignored them, willing himself to black out so he didn’t have to sit and think about what he’d done.

 _I’m sorry_ , he repeated, over and over.

_I’m sorry, Shiro. I’m so, so sorry._

 

***

 

Lance waited until well past lights out before leaving the sleeping quarters. He didn’t want to risk waking the crew up and being followed. This was a solo job, one that needed extreme caution.

He slipped on his shoes and slung his jacket over his shoulders. He felt the soft cotton between his fingers. Keith had never spoken about it; the night Lance had let Keith use his jacket as a blanket. He’d just left it on Lance’s hammock when he wasn’t looking. Neither of them had acknowledged the occurrence since.

Lance sighed. He re-tucked his shirt into his pants and then started making his way up the stairs. Slowly, he walked down the length of the deck until he came to their spot. Sure enough, Keith was up on the rigging, staring at nothing. He was toiling with something in his hands, what looked like a bundle of rope. A few ends were fraying, spreading out like a fan. Was that supposed to be a tail?

_No, concentrate. You need to concentrate._

Lance took a deep breath before making his way to the bannister. His leaned on his elbows and looked out at the stars. They were passing the Cygnus Cross. If Lance remembered correctly, that meant they were getting close.

He looked up at Keith who was wearing his signature red and white leather jacket and clunky industrial boots. His hair was loose, ink-black strands blending into the night sky.

“It’s wasn’t your fault,” Lance said before he could think better of it. Keith said nothing, not even acknowledging Lance’s presence. “I mean, we’d all be floating around in a big ball of nothing if you hadn’t –”

Keith snapped.

Jumping down from the rigging, he landed on the bannister right in front of Lance. He crouched down low, hackles raised, teeth bared in a snarl. He looked like a lion ready to pounce.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, coming face to face with Lance, so close their noses bumped. “I fucked up!” Keith yelled. He jumped down from the bannister, making as if to walk away only to turn and get back in Lance’s face. There was anger in his eyes. They were flashing from grey to blue to ultra-violet as he spat out each word.

“For a moment, I finally thought I did something right, something worth noticing and instead I –” he clutched at his hair, scrunching it between his fingers. “Aagh! I just –”

Keith stalked over to the main mast. He stood before it, staring it down as if it were his worst enemy. Curling his hand into a fist, he hit the mast square on, once, twice, over and over until Lance could see blood starting sprout from Keith’s split knuckles, little red beads swelling like balloons.

“Keith,” Lance said, stepping in front of the mast in between punches. Keith stopped, fist raised in the air, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily in, out, in out. 

Lance raised his hands, holding his breath as he waited for Keith to come back.

Keith blinked and his eyes finally focused, really seeing Lance.

Lance released his breath. He reached out, gently pulling Keith’s hand down. Keith didn't resist, only watched. Lance caught his eye before turning his attention to Keith's hand. He turned it over, inspecting Keith’s bruised knuckles. It almost looked pretty in a way, purple and blue galaxies sinking into his skin.

Keith stared dumbly for a moment, watching Lance as he swept his thumb along the back of his hand in soothing circles. Keith pulled away sharply, nearly pulling Lance along with him. He stepped back stuffing his hands in his pockets safe out of sight.

“Keith,” Lance started, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Don’t you have some pretty girl to chase after?” Keith spat, glaring rather intently at the floorboards,

“Actually, no,” Lance said, ignoring the coldness in Keith’s voice.

Keith looked up for a second, inquisitiveness overshadowing his need to sulk, before quickly ducking his head again. “What?”

“Nyma said she wasn’t interested.” It wasn’t a big deal, it happened. You like someone, you try to get to know them, impress them. You practically learn to do a somersault on command and what happens? They say sorry, they’re not interested, _we can still be friends_. But Lance knew a dismissal when he heard one. So, he’d left Nyma alone, the occasional “Good morning,” or “Good night,” being the only exception. Had Keith seriously not noticed?

Keith scuffed his shoe. “Oh,” he said.

“That’s it?” Lance said, mock affronted. “My heart lies here scattered across the deck and your only word of comfort is ‘oh’?”

“Well sorry if I’m not in a comforting mood,” Keith said, the bite in his words half-hearted. He sounded tired now, having beaten out most of his anger against the mast.

“It's okay,” Lance said, taking a small step closer to Keith. “I miss him too.”

No response.

Lance didn’t really know what else to say. He’d never been in this position before. Keith and Shiro had gotten close over the last few months, closer than Lance ever was to the first mate. He wasn’t jealous. If anything, he was happy for Keith that he had someone to mentor him. So now, he couldn’t imagine the guilt coursing through Keith’s veins making his head hang low and his night restless.

Lance watched as Keith bit his lip, his shoulders bunched up and shaking, whether from anger or unshed tears, Lance couldn’t tell.

_That’s it._

Lance stood directly in front of Keith, refusing to be ignored. “Listen, Keith,” he said, “you knew what you were doing. You didn’t even hesitate when I fell overboard and I saw how you left your lifeline for last when you were tightening the knots.”

Keith sniffed. His head was ducked low, hiding his face behind his bangs. Lance had known Keith long enough to know that he always did that whenever he felt embarrassed, or nervous. Or guilty.

Slowly, Lance reached for Keith’s chin and tilted his head up so they were eye to eye. Keith’s eyes shone with unshed tears, the rims red and puffy.

“You’ve got potential. You know you do. We all know. Shiro knew it too. But you can’t let this drag you down. You’ve got to keep going, no matter how many times you mess up.” Keith swallowed thickly, although he kept his eyes locked with Lance’s. “And you know what?” Lance said, giving Keith’s chin a quick tap before letting his hand drop, “When you get your chance to show your stuff, I hope I’m there and get to witness the greatness that is Mullet Man.”

Keith didn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth twitched, a tiny sign that he'd heard.

“And also to brag, because, obviously, you learnt all that stuff from me,” Lance said, even though he probably shouldn't be joking right now.

“Did not,” Keith said, his lips doing that little twitching thing whenever he was holding back a smile.

“Okay, I can’t take all the credit,” Lance said, elbowing Keith lightly. “Shiro would be proud, ya know. Of what you did today,” he added, voice tapering off into a whisper.

They stood there, toe to toe, neither saying anything.

For a moment, Lance thought his words had done nothing, that Keith didn’t believe him, that he’d messed up somehow.

He felt a weight on his chest.

Lance looked down and there was Keith, his forehead pressed against Lance’s collarbone. Keith’s shoulders were shaking and Lance heard a muffled sob.

_Holy quiznak._

“Keith?” Lance said, trying to gauge the situation. Keith stayed put, his head pressed firmly to Lance’s chest, quiet gasps and hiccups the only thing to break the silence.

“Hey,” Lance said, giving an awkward chuckle. “It’s okay. It'll be okay” he said, slowly wrapping his arms around Keith, bringing him closer to his chest. Keith lifted his head a little, his lips grazing Lance’s collarbone.

Lance froze.

He hadn’t seen his family in over a year, their only correspondence being through electro-grams or old-fashioned letters. Being the youngest sibling, he was usually the one to be comforted when something went wrong. When someone had called him names or he got scared or he’d tripped and fell and scraped a knee. His mamá was always there for him, his older siblings as well. They’d welcome him with open arms, not caring about the tear stains on their shirts. Lance had had some practice in comforting with his niece and nephew, but this was new territory. This was Keith, stoic, stead-fast Keith. A man of few words who refused to show any weakness. And here he was, crying on Lance’s shoulder, seeking comfort. Lance’s chest was warm with the contact, a buzzing in his ears. His heart raced, his pulse thumping at the back of his throat. He relaxed into the touch, melting into Keith.

He hadn’t realised how touch-starved he’d been until now. Sure, Hunk would give him a bone-crushing hug every once in a while, and Shiro would give a friendly clap to the shoulder, but that wasn’t the same as this. This was something different entirely. This was heat trickling down his spine and making his legs go numb. This was his blood pumping in his ears and his mouth going dry and his chest heaving with deep breaths because he needed to _breathe_.

This was intoxicating.

This was terrifying.

_Does Keith feel it too?_

Lance cleared his throat.

“Keith?” He winced when he heard his voice crack.

Keith sniffed and pulled away, but only enough to look up at Lance. Keith wasn’t much shorter than Lance, maybe by just an inch or two. If Lance tilted his head down a smidge, then their noses would probably bump, their foreheads touch. Their lips would slot together perfectly…

Lance stepped back, releasing Keith gently.

“Um,” Lance said, biting his lower lip. “I, uh –”

“Thanks Lance,” Keith said. His voice was thick from crying but he was smiling, a barely-there smile but a smile never the less.

“You’re welcome,” Lance said with a relieved sigh.

They stood there, almost toe to toe, but still close enough for Lance to see the few leftover tears clinging to Keith's eyelashes. He wanted to reach out, to cup Keith's cheek and wipe away all that sadness, to hold him again, maybe run his hands through Keith's hair even.

“I think I’m going to try get some sleep,” Keith said, breaking Lance from his reverie. Keith hesitated then stepped out of their little bubble, heading towards the sleeping quarters. At the staircase, he turned, locking eyes with Lance. “You coming?” he asked.

Lance tried not to squeal at those words. Why did Keith have to say that? Why did he have to say it looking like that? All rumpled and droopy eyed and soft-smiley and –

“Nah, I think I’ll stay out here a little while longer,” Lance said, rubbing his arms, willing his cheeks to stop burning.

Keith nodded. He was walking down the stairs before he turned back once again.

“Hey, Lance?”

“Yeah?” Lance squeaked.

“Thanks.” There was that barely-there smile again. It struck through Lance like a javelin.

He could make a joke, push away the warm feeling blooming in his chest, make everything that just happened smaller than it was.

Instead, he gave soft smile. 

“You said that already.”

“I know,” Keith replied.

Keith's smile blossomed and then he was gone.

 

***

 

Lance waited out on the deck until he was sure that Keith would be asleep. He didn't think he could trust himself right now. Everything that had just happened... it was a lot to take in. It was too much to think about right now, with Shiro and how heartbroken Allura had looked and _Keith, Keith, Keith._  

Lance huffed and raked a hand through his already messed-up hair, having been doing so for the last ten minutes while he tried not to overthink everything.

_Drop it. Save it for another day._

Lance took one last look at the Cygnus Cross and sighed. He was going to need to do some serious thinking.

_Tomorrow._

Adjusting his jacket, he started on his way back to the sleeping quarters when his foot made contact with something. Lance crouched down and felt around in the dark until he found the object. He stood up and held it up in the starlight. It was the bundle of rope Keith had been fiddling with. Only it wasn’t rope. It was a lion.

Lance smiled softly, fingering the lion’s make-shift mane. Those knots could only have belonged to one person.

Tucking the lion into his jacket pocket, Lance walked at a slow and leisurely pace back to the comforts of his hammock. He had a feeling he’d be getting a good night’s sleep tonight.

What he didn’t know was that high above him, hiding in the shadows of the sails, was a pair of blue-yellow eyes watching his every move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, before my inbox gets flooded:
> 
> Yes, I am currently following the Treasure Planet timeline (which includes the first mate's death) but as we near the later chapters I'll be delving more into Voltron plot. That's all I can really say about Shiro.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rover is a little shit and Keith learns of Sendak's plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'm 100% happy with this chapter. It feels a little choppy in places but... yeah. Also, just a heads up that Chapter 13 is quite short so I'm going to be posting it on Wednesday followed by Chapter 14 on Thursday as per the schedule.

Sunlight drifted in through the porthole, golden streaks highlighting floating dust motes. Keith usually liked to watch the little dances that occurred; wave his hands in and out of the light and play with the shadows. But today, he chose to sleep. He’d been sleeping in lately, after what happened. After the storm and the rope burns and singed hair and Shiro.

Shiro.

Keith turned over, digging his cheek into the rough canvas of his hammock. After the _incident_ , everyone else had managed to go on as usual; Allura playing the role of sturdy captain as well as first mate. She put up a good front, although Keith could see her grief in the sharp clip of her tone, the stiffness in which she conducted her orders and the occasional outburst when something went wrong. He didn’t blame her. No one did.

Shiro was always the one who made sure the ship was a well-oiled machine, that everything was running smoothly in its place where it belonged. The big and the little things.

_Stop it. Leave it. Put it in the “not now” pile and move on._

That had been Keith’s mantra for the last three weeks. Not that it helped.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, in and out; following a slow rhythm of a lullaby he once knew. He couldn’t remember the words, or where he’d heard it. But it helped.

Soon, he was dozing off again.

Until something started poking him in the shoulder.

Keith pawed at it blindly, trying to knock it away, only for it to start up again, poking him even harder.

“Keith.”

“Pidge, go away, it’s too early for this.”

Another hard poke.

“Keith!”

“Pidge, knock it off,” Keith grumbled. He cracked open one sleepy eye, but there was no Pidge in sight.

“Pidge,” he mumbled, rubbing a lazy hand over his face. “I don’t have time for this.”

Silence.

Huh.

He must have imagined it, or Pidge was planning something wicked. Either way, Keith figured a few more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt.

He snuggled back into his hammock, pillowing his head in his hands.

Slowly, slowly, his breathing evened out, his eyes drooping shut. He was just beginning to fall back into a dreamless sleep when he got thrown out of his hammock.

Keith landed hard on his tailbone. He groaned, rubbing at the back of his head where it had knocked on the hammock’s mast.

“Pidge!” he grumbled.

He heard them laughing, but they were nowhere to be seen. Then, a flash of green came whizzing past his head.

_Rover._

“You little shit!” he said, trying to make a grab at the automaton.

“Hey, it’s too early for profanities,” Pidge said, their voice projecting through Rover somehow. He remembered them saying something about something they’d been working on. A… speaker? Well, whatever it was, it seemed they’d cracked it.

Keith fumbled, falling over his feet as he made to catch Rover. No luck.

“Come on, Keith. You can do better than that!” Pidge taunted.

Keith grabbed his shoe and chucked it at Rover, hitting him solidly. Rover swooshed back then shook as if to recollect himself.

“Oooooh,” Pidge said, dragging out the vowel. “So, you wanna play dirty, huh?”

“Bring it, Pidgeon,” Keith said, grinning snidely.

“You’re on!” Pidge said. Before Keith could act, Rover swooshed down and picked up Keith’s shoe in a little copper claw. Pidge was cackling as Rover flew up the stairs, carrying Keith’s shoe along with him.

Keith rushed to put on his remaining shoe before running after Rover.

“Pidge, you’re so dead!” he said when he caught up to Rover.

“Gonna have to catch me first!” Pidge sing-songed, directing Rover to fly high above Keith’s head. His shoe dangled from Rover’s miniature claw, just out of reach. Keith never thought he would be mocked by an automaton. He was so wrong.

Rover circled Keith, causing him to chase his tail, before whizzing off again. Rover made his way to the stairs lowering onto the main deck.

_Target acquired._

Keith bolted then jumped. He flew through the air and grabbed his shoe, tearing it away from Rover. He tucked in on himself and rolled down onto the deck. He ended up sprawled on his back, prize in hand.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed, pumping his shoe up in victory as if it were a hard-earned trophy. “Did you see that you little squidge!”

No response.

Keith sat up and looked around. The deck was empty.

In front of him was the wooden grating acting as air holes for the galley. He crawled towards it, shoe still in hand. He peered down into one of the gaps only to be blinded by a green light.

“Pidge!”

Pidge hooted, their laughter a little tinny through Rover’s speakers before Rover ducked back under the grating.

Keith aimed his shoe at Rover, but just missed him.

Rover then popped up again, Pidge yelling “Peek-a-boo!” before ducking down again.

Each time Rover popped up, Pidge would make a taunt. And each time Keith made to whack Rover over the head, he missed.

Pidge was probably rolling in their room with laughter and, he hated to admit it but, Keith soon found himself laughing as well.

Rover ducked down, having flashed Keith with his green laser again.

Keith was up on his knees, poised and ready to strike.

But Rover didn’t pop up again.

Keith sank back on his heels. He blinked a few times, white spots dancing behind his closed eyelids. When he felt he’d recovered from Rover’s little laser attack, he scrambled to his feet and headed to the galley.

Keith hopped on one foot down the stairs, balancing as best he could as he put on his other shoe. It slipped on after the third attempt, but only because he fell down the last of the steps.

Keith groaned. His tailbone was starting to ache.

He looked about the galley, squinting in the early-morning light. The light fixtures on the walls hadn’t been switched on, so the grating up above was the only source of light. It created little squares of yellow and white on the floor.

Keith crept quietly down the aisle, on the lookout for Rover.

Rover was clunky, so there weren’t a lot of hiding spots to choose from. It would have to be somewhere big and open like –

The lumin barrel.

_Bingo._

Keith shimmed his shoulders and zeroed in on the barrel; a lion on the prowl. Quietly, he tiptoed over, minding the squeakier floorboards.

He peered over the rim, holding his breath. He waited. And then –

“Gotchya!”

He tumbled into the barrel, landing on the small pile of lumins as he snatched Rover.

“Hey! No fair!” Pidge said, indignant.

“All’s fair in love and war, Pidgeon!” Keith chuckled.

A green light flashed and then Pidge’s face suddenly appeared, projecting from Rover’s green glass eye. Keith startled, letting go of Rover. “What the hell?!”

“You like it?” they said, adjusting their glasses.

“It’s…”

“Fantastic, amazing, absolutely brilliant?” Pidge offered.

“Weird,” Keith said.

Pidge harrumphed, pouting a little.

Keith leaned in closer, peering at Pidge. It was definitely them, although their image was a little saturated.

“How? –”

“Hunk did it,” Pidge said, giving a proud smile, “Well, I designed it, he installed it. We’re still trying to figure out a name for it. I’ve been playing around with the word ‘pictogram’, though I still don’t know if I like it.”

“When did you find time to do this?” Keith asked, waving a hand through Pidge’s face. The image flickered then came together again.

Pidge shrugged. “I was bored.”

“Yeah but –”

“I’m sick of this waiting!” someone said.

“Whose tha –” Pidge started, only for Keith to put a hand where their mouth would have been.

“Shhh!”

“I agree,” said another voice.

There was a hole in the barrel, just big enough to act as a peep hole. Keith leaned in, peering through it.

The entire crew was gathered in the galley, although Keith couldn’t see Hunk or Lance.

“We’re wanting to move!” Varkon said, crossing his arms and sticking out his lower lip. He looked like a spoiled child having a tantrum.

An arm shot into Keith’s view, gleaming silver and purple. It was Sendak.

“We don’t move until we’ve got the treasure,” he said, voice low and commanding.

A hand crept up Sendak’s shoulder, pulling him back.

“I say we kill them all now,” Lotor drawled, although a wicked smile played at his lips. “It would be as easy as one, two, three.” His knife flicked out of nowhere, the blue insignia on the handle glowing in the shadows.

Sendak seized Lotor’s wrist in his bionic arm, bending it back until Lotor hissed in pain.

“I say what’s to be done!” Sendak yelled. Keith flinched at the power in his voice. “Disobey my orders like that stunt you pulled with Mr. Shirogane and so help me, you’ll be joining him!” Sendak picked Lotor up and threw him across the room as if he weighed nothing. Lotor crashed against the barrel, jostling Keith. His ears rang like chimes. Pidge squeaked at the impact. Keith clamped his hands around Rover, causing their image to flicker.

Keith looked up. Lotor’s white hair, pulled back into a ponytail by a ribbon, hovered by the rim of the barrel; purple hands braced on either side.

“He was on to us,” Lotor spat, “I saw an opportunity and seized it.”

“I agree with the Princeling,” someone piped up. Keith peered through the hole again and saw a yellow figure push through the ring of purple.

Nyma.

“Oh really?” Sendak said, swivelling to meet her gaze.

Nyma looked unfazed. Hands on her hips she said, “Yeah. I didn’t flirt with that toothpick for weeks on end for nothing!”

Keith froze.

Lance. Lance couldn’t possibly be a part of this. He wouldn’t do that, his family –

_I need to prove to them that I can be successful, just, not in the way they thought._

“No,” Keith whispered.

“Please, you enjoyed every second of it!” the large Galran, Zethrid, said, pointing an accusing finger at Nyma.

“Do you know how much work it took me to pretend I was interested in that insectoid? The lame jokes and the terrible flirting! Thanks to my hard work, I held him in the palm of my hand. He literally held the door open for me, didn’t even hesitate when I asked him to pick the lock. All thanks to me!” She poked Zethrid in the chest. “And at least I know what we’re looking for!”

“Well, the map’s no good if it’s in the wrong hands,” Acxa, the blue Galran, said.

Rolo appeared at Nyma’s side, placing a hand around her waist. “Hey, she did her job, now you do yours!”

“Quiet!”

The room stilled.

Sendak stepped back into view, his bionic eye glowing red. He walked up to Nyma, hands clasped behind his back. “Nyma,” he said, peering down at her, “I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say we appreciate your great efforts of smiling and batting an eyelash or two.”

Snickers echoed across the room.

Sendak shot up, his eye narrowing. The snickers ceased.

He stepped away from Nyma, making his way around the room. Nyma stood up straight, standing her own ground when facing the cyborg, but once Sendak was out of range, she breathed a sigh of relief. Fear swirled in her eyes.

“Now,” Sendak said, keeping his voice low, “as for the rest of you.” All eyes were on Sendak, watching his every move. “If anyone of you step out of line, you will sorely regret it. Need I remind you of our dear friend Thace?”

The crew all shook their heads in unison.

“Good.” Sendak turned and faced the barrel square on. “And of course,” he said, words sprinkled with sweetened sarcasm, “we won’t forget you, your highness.”

A low growl emanated from Lotor. The sound rattled in Keith’s ribcage.

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” Lotor said. Keith could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Tell me, general,” a purple hand shot down through the opening of the barrel, clawing at thin air.

Pidge whispered something but Keith couldn’t hear them.

“What?” Keith mouthed.

“Lumin!” Pidge mouthed, pointing down.

Keith grappled round in the dark until he found a reasonably sized lumin. He held it up, careful not to allow his fingers to graze Lotor’s as he took the proffered fruit.

“Have you told the rest of your devoted crew,” Lotor said, taking a bite of his lumin, “the real reason we’re on this boat?”

“Planet hoe!”

Everyone’s attention was torn away from Lotor. They looked up, following the voice shouting from the crow’s nest. The quiet tension in the room suddenly burst into a round of excitement. Galra pushed and shoved one another, trying to get up the flight of stairs first. Sendak waited for the crowd to disperse before following, although not before sending a pointed Lotor’s way.

“We’ll speak about this later,” he said.

“Can’t wait,” Lotor replied.

With that, Sendak disappeared up the stairs, leaving Lotor with Keith and Pidge.

He took his time polishing off his lumin, licking the juice from his fingers almost deliberately slowly, before dumping the remains back into the barrel. The pip landed on Keith’s head before dripping down his hair and hitting the bottom of the barrel. Rover’s claw clamped his mouth shut before he could object.

Finally, Lotor sauntered up the stairs, his white ponytail swinging like a pendulum at his back.

The galley was as silent as the grave.

 

_Thace. They knew Thace and Lance. Lance. He was in on it. No. No, he was tricked. Does he know? Did he know the whole time? Is he one of them? Is he in it for the money? For his family, or for himself? Does Hunk know? Does Allura? Oh, stars. Allura. She’ll be heartbroken. More heartbroken. Broken. Just like me. I thought I knew him, I thought he liked me. Was that an act as well? Was it my fault? It’s my fault. My fault. My fault. My fault my fault my fault my –_

 

“Keith?”

Keith jumped, knocking his head against the barrel.

“What?”

“Keith,” it was Pidge, still projected from Rover. Had they been there the whole time? “Keith, listen. I know it’s a shock but you’ve got to get out of here. I’m going to go get Hunk and Lance, you need to warn Allura – ”

“No!”

Pidge startled. Keith did as well at the shrill sound of his voice.

“No, sorry. I mean –” Keith stuttered, “You fly ahead, it’s quicker, less conspicuous. I’ll get Hunk and Luh – Luh –“

“Lance,” Pidge finished for him.

Keith nodded.

“Okay, meet me in Allura’s study in five.” With that, Pidge’s face blinked out and Rover flew out of the barrel.

Keith sank down into the pile of lumins. He could feel the fruit beginning to burst under his weight.

_Breathe,_ he reminded himself. _You need to breathe, you need to focus. Patience yields focus. Patience yields focus._

Keith repeated Shiro’s words over and over as he slowly climbed out of the barrel, careful not to squish any more of the fruit. His foot caught on the rim, causing him to stumble into the nearest table.

“Well, well.”

Keith looked up and there was Lotor, violet eyes glowing in the murky shadows of the galley.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

“I was just –”

“Eavesdropping? Didn't mommy teach you any better?”

Keith ground his jaw, willing himself not to attack. Not yet anyway.

“What’s the matter, Keith?” Lotor purred. He took a step forward. “Don’t you like playing games?” Keith stepped back in accordance, only to knock into the chair behind him.

“I don’t know,” Keith said, steadying himself. “Do you?”

Lotor hummed thoughtfully, cupping his chin with his long, elegant fingers. “Well, to be honest, I never fancied games all that much.” His face cracked into a grin. “I just hate to lose.”

Keith reached behind his belt.

“Me too!” he yelled, stabbing Lotor in the leg with his dagger.

Lotor screamed as blade met flesh. Keith gave the knife a quick twist before dashing for the stairs, reluctantly leaving his dagger behind.

He ran, shooting up the stairs to the quarterdeck. He felt eyes at the back of his neck, but he refused to look back. Not until he reached Allura’s study. Not until he was safe.

He ran straight into Allura’s door, his nose pounding in pain.

“Pidge!” he yelled, banging his fists relentlessly, “Pidge open up!”

Keith was mid-swing when the door opened, causing him to tumble forward.

“Careful!”

Two hands clasped his forearms, pulling him back up to his feet.

Keith scrambled back.

“Hey, Mullet, relax,” Lance said, quirking a brow. “It’s just me.”

_I know._

“Keith! Oh man, I’m glad to see you!” Hunk appeared behind Keith, picking him up in a bone-crushing hug.

“Hunk, if you’d kindly lock the door before the pirates get in?” Allura asked from behind her desk.

“Oh, right, sorry.” Hunk placed Keith down gently before running to the door and sealing the lock.

“Did Pidge –” Keith started.

“Yes,” Allura said, dragging her chair back and standing up, “they already told me. Gathered Hunk and Lance too while they were at it.”

Keith glared at Pidge. They shrugged. “Technically it was Rover,” they said, pointing at the little automaton as he came to rest on Pidge’s shoulder. “And besides, you were taking too long.”

“Yeah, Lotor kinda got in the way.”

Pidge gave him a look of surprise but didn’t ask for any more details. Allura walked over to her cabinet and unlocked it with the key in her pocket.

_Didn’t even hesitate when I asked him to pick the lock._

“Pirates on my father’s ship,” Allura growled as she reached far back into the cabinet. She drew out what looked to be a handgun. “I’ll see them all hanged!” Loading the gun, she clicked its safety off.

“Familiar with these, Doctor?” Allura asked before throwing the gun to Pidge. Pidge stumbled forward, catching it just before it hit the floor.

“Well,” Pidge started, holding the gun between two fingers as if it were a piece of garbage. They adjusted their grip, placing it in the palm of their hand. “I mean, I’ve read –”

_Click._

An electric-blue flare shot out of the gun’s mouth, causing the lamp beside Allura’s head to explode. Glass shattered onto the floor.

“I’m gonna go with no,” Lance said, carefully taking the gun out of Pidge’s hand.

“Alright. I hate to do this but, desperate times call for desperate measures.” Allura skimmed the ridge of the cabinet until she found what she was looking for. She pressed down hard and automatically the back wall of the cabinet slid up, revealing a hidden cavity.

“Try this for size,” Allura said, drawing something out from the hidden shelf. It looked like a handle for something, covered in white and green designs.

Pidge was a little more prepared, catching the handle without stumbling too much. Allura threw three more out; a yellow one to Hunk, blue for Lance and finally, a red handle for Keith.

As soon as Keith grasped the handle a bright red light burst. The handle elongated into a sword.

“Woah.”

“Oh yeah!”

Lance had a blue and white rifle in his hands. He looked like a beginner, his hands clumsily gripping the body of the gun. It was unlike any design Keith had ever seen, smooth as if carved all in one go, and almost ovular in shape. Hunk had a similar gun, although it was much larger in size, having to rest on his shoulder.

“Um, you don’t have anything a little, uh, safer?” Hunk asked, voice shaking.

Allura ignored him in favour of loading a rifle and swinging it over her shoulder.

“Cool!” Pidge gasped.

Keith peered over his shoulder and spotted Pidge testing out their weapon. There was a small extension, almost like a green razor, attached to the handle in a sharp arc, resembling the tip of Keith’s dagger. It glowed bright green.

“Aw! It’s so cute!” Lance crooned, trying to get a closer look.

Pidge stuck their hand out, poking Lance with their weapon. Lance stiffened then shook as a few bolts of electricity ran through his system. He collapsed to the floor with a muffled moan.

“Yeah,” Pidge said, admiring their handy work, “Real cute.”

They sent a smirk Keith’s way and he returned it in favour. It wasn’t exactly the punishment Lance deserved, but it would do for now.

“Allura, what exactly are these?” Pidge asked, turning their attention away from Lance who was twitching slightly as he lay prone on the floor.

“That’s Captain to you, Doctor,” Allura said stiffly. “This is still my ship. And they’re called bayards. A little something from Altea.”

Hunk gasped, “No way!” His eyes widened in adoration.

“Keith.”

A flash of black. Keith reached out and caught the map.

“Defend this with your life,” Allura said, giving him a firm look.

Keith nodded before pocketing the map.

Lance, having finally come to, sat up, a little breath of smoke wisping from his hair. “Uh, guys?” he said, pointing at the door.

“Oh shit.”

 

***

 

“Are you going to take all day about this!” Sendak yelled, pushing through the crowd of Galra trying to break down the door. “Move!”

They all stood back, guns pointed up and away from their leader.

Sendak curled his left hand into a fist and with one mighty swing, he punched through the door, ripping it off its hinges.

The Galra roared, storming through the doorway, guns raised.

Sendak walked through with an easy gait. He’d won. The Altean and her cronies were trapped. There was no other place to go. They –

“Ah, General?”

“Yes, Varkon?” Sendak said, eyeing the pudgy mess of purple. Varkon visibly shook as he pointed to a spot on the floor. Sendak growled, a low, guttural sound as he laid eyes on the gaping hole in the floor.

“Well don’t just stand there,” he said, grabbing Varkon by the scruff and throwing him down the hole. “ _Get them!_ ”

 

***

 

“Guys, please wait up!” Hunk panted, still lugging his large gun over his shoulder.

“No time to dilly-dally Hunk, either keep up or give up!” Allura said over her shoulder.

Keith was sprinting at top speed, but somehow, even in her thigh-high heels, Allura was two strides ahead of him.

They were running through the inner workings of the ship, their boots clanking loudly against the metal grating at their feet. Keith would have expected it to smell of copper and oil, the usual makings of any engine room. But it was spotless, just as pristine as the rest of the ship.

“This way!” Allura called, rounding a corner.

Keith skidded before making a sharp right and following closely behind. The doorway opened to a small flight of stairs. Keith ignored them, jumping the length and landing in a low crouch before sprinting through the doorway at the end of the hall.

Everyone else scrambled after him, rushing through the doorway one at a time. Hunk was the last one through, heaving, out of breath.

“Hurry!” he said between gasps, “They’re – They’re right behind me!”

As if on cue, the Galra came rushing around the corner, a gigantic wave of purple limbs.

Allura promptly slammed the door in their faces and sealed it. She then used the laser of her rifle to meld the seal into the door.

“Get to the longboats!” she said, rushing to the front of the group.

“Get into Blue!” Lance said.

Pidge stopped in their tracks. “What?”

“Just, ugh, the boat at the end. Get into the boat at the end,” Lance said, ushering them along with Hunk to Blue. Keith helped Pidge into the boat, cupping his hands to use as a make-shift step ladder.

Hunk jumped right in, causing Blue to tremble.

“Careful, Hunk!” Lance said as he climbed in, stroking Blue’s side soothingly.

“Sorry!”

Allura pushed down on the lever to the left of the boat. The hangar door creaked, slowly coming to life as it began to slide open.

Allura ran and, pushing off a hand on the bannister of the boat, flipped into Blue with ease.

Just then, the door burst open. Galra spewed out of the doorway, all carrying guns and all with a feral look in their yellow eyes. Keith took stock of their numbers. He couldn’t see any of the half-breeds, although Rolo and Nyma stuck out like sore thumbs in comparison to their Galra cronies.

“Keith! Get in!” Allura called as she made the first shot at the oncoming mob.

Keith was about to jump into the boat when he felt an arm tug at his waist. He was hauled away from the boat, an arm wrapped snugly about his neck like a scarf. Warm breath tickled his ear as someone whispered, “Where is it?”

Keith struggled against his captor’s grip, kicking out uselessly.

There was a commotion on the boat. A shooting match had erupted, gunshots firing left and right. Allura was at the helm. “Chew on this you puss-filled boils!” she yelled, firing precise shots and never missing her targets. Lance was right beside her. His shots weren’t as precise, but he did manage to hit some of the bigger Galra, taking them down one after the other. Hunk was busy helping Pidge as they fended off the Galra trying to enter the boat from the other side. Pidge swung their bayard, electrocuting whoever was closest. Hunk looked more comfortable with his bayard now that he was getting target practice. Keith could even see a grin starting to form on the chef’s face.

Keith was brought back when he felt the grip around his neck tighten.

“I said, where is it!” his captor practically yelled in his ear.

Keith grunted as he scrabbled at the arm around his neck. “Who says I have it?”

“Oh,” his captor whispered, hot breath leaving sticky trails of heat down Keith’s neck, “I have it on good authority that you do.”

A hand trailed down Keith waist before dipping into his pocket. The map was drawn out slowly and brought up for inspection.

“Well, isn’t that pretty,” the voice breathed.

“Keith!”

In his peripheral vision, Keith saw Pidge holding up their bayard.

Keith nodded before swinging his leg and kicking it as far back as he could. It connected and his captor howled in pain.

Keith fell to his knees just as Pidge’s bayard flew out towards his captor. But they rolled at the last second, allowing the grapple hook to whiz past them.

White hair hung down in thick curtains, framing the Galran’s angular face. His violet eyes shone with mirth. Slowly, he stood up, his right leg a little wobbly under his weight. Blood was still trickling from the dagger wound.

Lotor started chuckling.

“Oh, this is too rich!” He stumbled, then righted himself, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. He bared his teeth in a wide Cheshire grin. “You think your little Altean toys are going to stop Galran royalty? Oh, you really are too precious. It’s a pity, really, that I’m going to have to kill you,” he lifted a pistol, aiming it directly between Keith’s eyes.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

Both Keith and Lotor looked up at Pidge. Their amber eyes were alight with mischief.

“Smile!”

A flash, then Keith’s vision was overridden by a bright white light. He raised his arms, trying to shield his eyes from the blinding light.

He could hear Lotor screaming, and the loud _thunk_ of metal on wood.

“Keith! The map!” Hunk yelled.

Keith blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. He could make out a blur that was most likely Lotor but otherwise nothing else was visible.

He ducked down onto all fours and crawled, sweeping his hands in front of him. “Come on, come on!”

His hand connected with something. It was smooth and round and cold to the touch.

_Yes!_

Keith whipped his leg round, sweeping Lotor’s feet out from under him. He heard a dull _thud_ and a moan.

“Pidge! I’ve got it!” Keith yelled, pocketing the map.

The white flash disappeared and was replaced with chaos.

The Galra were gaining ground. Allura kept having to duck behind the mast of the boat while Lance popped up and down like a jack-in-the-box, shooting wildly.

“Lance!” Allura yelled, reloading her gun, “Aim, then shoot!”

“Told you he was pathetic!” Nyma shouted, obviously wanting Lance to be heard. “He can’t even shoot straight.”

Lance stopped. He smiled.

Tilting his gun up, Lance aimed and fired.

A bolt of blue light shot up and hit a fixture on the roof, causing it to break free. It fell, breaking through the wooden ramp easily. Planks of wood and Galra alike tumbled through the open shaft at the bottom of the ship and down to the surface of the planet, their screams receding into the distance. Although none could compare to Nyma’s shrill shriek of surprise. Keith took some satisfaction in watching her become nothing more than a yellow speck.

“Did you actually aim for that?” Allura asked, sounding sceptical.

“Of course, I did!” Lance replied, “My friends called me 'sharpshooter' back at the Garrison!”

“Well then, keep it up!” Allura said, before pushing Lance’s head down and away from oncoming gunfire.

“Keith!” Keith spotted Pidge waving at him frantically. Vaulting over the gap between the walkway and the boat, Keith landed in Blue with an unceremonious, “Oomph!”

“Glad you could join us!” Pidge said, helping Keith up.

“Yeah, great. Can we please go now!” Hunk yelled, firing at a set of Galra and knocking them both down with one shot. Hunk looked pleasantly surprised when he did.

“On it!” Lance said, sitting down at Blue’s controls and getting her ready for take-off.

A loud creaking noise echoed around them.

Keith looked down. The hangar door was beginning to slide closed beneath them.

“No, no, who’s –”

Sendak’s neon eye gleamed up at Keith, his left claw gripping firmly to the lever. He gave Keith a terrifying smile.

“Quiznak!” Allura huffed. She looked about as if the answer were somewhere up in the air. Her pointed ears perked, a wild look appearing in her eyes.

“Lance!” she said, ducking down to avoid another gunshot. “On the count of three, shoot that forward cable, I’ll take this one. One, two, –”

“Three!” Lance yelled before shooting out the cable. Allura followed suit.

They hovered and then, they fell.

Blue hit the hangar door heavily, the wood groaning in protest, before slowly tipping back. They fell out of the Laith and away from the gunfire.

“Oh no! No! Make it stop! Make it stop!” Hunk hollered, covering his eyes.

Allura pulled the sail loose while Lance settled at the controls. “Parameters met, hydraulics engaged!” He pressed the buttons in sequence before shifting the gear and wrenching the steering rod forward.

The sails caught on the wind, shining a brilliant turquoise blue, and soon they were angling down, heading towards the surface at an alarming speed (if Hunk’s screeching was any indication).

“Lance! Slow down, or we’re gonna crash!” Pidge yelled over the wind.

“Don’t worry!” Lance yelled back, a confident grin on his face, “I know what I’m doing!”

“Guys!” Hunk groaned.

“Now what?” Pidge said.

“Laser ball at twelve o’clock!” Hunk said, before ducking his head.

A great big cannonball was heading straight for them, streaks of purple and neon yellow burning behind it.

“Lance!” Allura yelled, shoving Lance off his seat and taking charge of the controls. She pulled the steering rod far left, trying to dodge the laser ball, but it was no use. The cannonball shot through the back of the ship, wiping out the engine completely in a burst of orange light. The sails burned to a crisp and were gone in an instant.

Allura flinched but otherwise kept control of the steering rod.

They were losing altitude, the ship dropping in quick succession. As they neared the surface, Keith could start to make out a grove of what resembled trees.

Pidge gasped and yelled, “Allura watch out we’re gonna –”

Keith felt his stomach bottom out as the back of the boat lurched up. They’d knocked into one of the trees. Veering off course, they began to break through the grove, hitting one tree after another. There were no branches or leaves, but rather just large collections of green cotton puffs at the top of the stems.

Lance grabbed ahold of Keith’s shirt and pulled him down, “Keith! Duck!”

Keith was about to protest when he felt the boat lurch again. They shot through the top of one of the trees, leaving great clouds of green and yellow in their wake.

The last thing Keith remembered was the nose of the ship dipping into the surface, the boat flipping over and the sound of shattering wood.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so I only realised yesterday that I would be posting this on Valentine's Day and... um... it's not the happiest of chapters. So, to make up for it I wrote a slightly rushed (sorry) Klance Valentine's one-shot called Be My Valentine if you guys want to check it out? Otherwise, yeah. I'm really sorry this is so not in sync with Valentine's mood but all the same, hope you guys are enjoying the story so far and I will be posting Chapter 14 tomorrow as per the schedule.

Keith woke to the sound of an engine roaring.

He shot up out of bed, hair in disarray. He didn’t care.

Flinging off his covers, Keith scrambled out of bed and down the stairs. When he got to the living room, no one was there. At this time of the morning, his father would be sitting at their little round dining table, sipping on a large cup of black coffee. Instead, there was a note.

Keith didn’t stop to read it. He bolted out the front door, leaving it hanging wide open.

A small quay stood adjacent to their cottage. Most mornings his father would be picked up by one of his colleagues so they could ride to the Garrison Space Port together. This time wasn’t any different.

Keith could make out his father’s figure walking down the catwalk, a sack hanging over one shoulder. His father only took that sack for long trips. Month-long trips.

“Dad!” Keith yelled, willing his legs to go faster, run farther. He wanted to see his dad, he wanted to say goodbye. He needed to tell him to stay.

Keith was about to yell again when he stumbled on the stone steps, scraping his hands in the process. Keith ignored the pain as he stood up and started sprinting. Keith had always been fast, his father ruffling his hair and laughing when he said as much. But now Keith couldn’t run fast enough, couldn’t push hard enough. He felt as if he were stuck in a time loop, running and tripping on the same spot over and over and over.

He watched as his father stepped onto the idling ship.

Keith’s eyes began to water, streaking down his cheeks. He arrived at the end of the dock just in time for the ship to take off. It left a cloud of dust in its wake. Keith coughed, his throat going dry from the dirt and the tears. It felt like mud was settling into his lungs. When the dust cleared, the ship was gone, along with Keith’s father.

He’s gone.

_He’s gone._

 

***

 

Keith stood out on the dock for an hour, two, three; waiting. He was waiting to hear the roar of an engine, to see a small dot in the distance that would eventually grow bigger and bigger until he could see his father’s face. But it never came.

By the time the sun reached the peak of midday, Keith was exhausted. His throat was bone dry, legs stiff from all the running and pacing. His eyes were sore and puffy from crying. He’d only stopped little over an hour ago.

Keith gathered his strength and turned, slowly trudging to the cottage, although he kept looking back, hopeful. Nothing.

He closed the door quietly behind him and walked along the carpet at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes trailed along the adjacent bookshelf. He remembered sitting there with his father, looking at his old picture books. Designs of vehicles and ships long past etched into the pages. Keith couldn’t bear to look at it now.

Slowly, he made his way to the dining table. Its surface was scratched with years of wear and tear, of Keith practising tricks with his dagger only for it to get stuck in the wood, handle ringing like a bell. The note was where he’d left it.

Keith reached for it, his fingers brushing the paper. He drew his hand back again, clutching it to his chest. He couldn’t do it.

Keith dragged a chair out and sat down directly in front of the letter. He stared at it, willing it to open on its own. It did not oblige.

Before he could think better of it, he grabbed the paper and unfolded it with shaking hands. Two words marred the pure white surface, barely illegible scribbles.

The words _I’m sorry_ danced across Keith’s vision, blurring in and out of focus.

Keith wanted to cry, but he had no more tears left. He felt wrung out like a wet cloth, squeezed until every last drop was gone.

Keith scrunched the letter into a tight ball, taking some satisfaction in the sound of crinkling paper.

 

***

 

That evening, two automatons (Keith guessed they must be from some kind of child-care unit by their nurse-like uniforms) knocked at the door, telling Keith to pack his things. They didn’t say where he was going, just that they were to ensure his safety.

Keith was too numb to argue.

He went on autopilot. Walk up the stairs, turn left down the hall. Turn right. Enter the bedroom, pack your bag. Only take what is necessary. Exit the room, walk down the hall, down the stairs. Wait for your next instructions.

The automatons asked if there was anything else Keith wanted to bring with him. He’d packed his mother’s jacket, his dagger hidden in its sheath at his back. He looked around the house, taking in every little detail. The kitchen with the cupboard doors that always needed fixing, the threadbare carpet beneath his feet, the windowsill that had become Keith's favourite reading spot over the years, the place he'd sit and wait so he could see as soon as his dad came home... He took it all in. He had a feeling he wouldn't be seeing it again. 

Hefting his small bag, Keith nodded at the automatons. He had all the essentials. But then he eyed the bookshelf to his right. On a whim, he reached out and grabbed the well-read book with the red cover, the one embossed with the words: “Modes of Transport Throughout the Centuries.”

He didn’t bother looking back when the automatons escorted him out of his childhood home. 

He had just turned thirteen years old.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura is hurt, Keith is angry and Lance is oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo.... things are starting to get serious now. I hope you guys are still enjoying the fic. I still feel a little funny posting the action scenes, its a bit out of my comfort zone, but practice makes perfect? Anyway, here ya go.

Lance was the first to wake up.

He tilted his head up and immediately regretted it. His neck hurt, his trapezius muscles pulsing. He rubbed the back of his neck, gritting his teeth against the pain. White, all he could see was white. Images flashed behind his eyes. The ship being taken over, Galra rushing at them, gunfire and bright lights, wood splintering and now here. They’d nosedived, causing the boat to tip itself over.

“Okay,” Lance whispered, trying to remain calm. _First things first, get out from under the boat._

He pushed up, planks of wood digging into his shoulder blades. He felt the boat give way.

“Yes! Come on, come on girl, that’s it!”

Blue creaked, stilled and then Lance felt an immense weight push him back down, hard.

“Blue!” Lance whined, trying to push up again with no luck. He tried again, and again and _again_ but Blue refused to budge.

Lance blew a tuft a hair out of his eyes.

“Great,” he mumbled.

Looking around, Lance assessed the damage. Allura was to his right, tucked in a tight ball next to what used to be the engine controls. Lance reached back, his shoulder protesting at the awkward angle, and placed a finger to her neck, checking her pulse. It fluttered steadily under his fingers.

He could see two lumps further down near the nose of the boat. Hunk's chest rose and fell in even breaths. Pidge was mostly hidden, nothing but a stockinged calf visible. But their leg moved; a sign of life.

Something stirred underneath Lance. He looked down, his vision filled with a mop of black hair atop porcelain skin.

Lance pushed himself up on his elbows, trying to take as much of his weight off of Keith as possible.

"Keith?" He whispered. Keith said nothing, but his hand twitched, his head shaking from side to side as if he were dreaming. As if he were having a nightmare.

Lance adjusted his weight onto his left arm, shaking at Keith's shoulder with the other.

"Keith?"

Keith muttered something, his shoulders shaking as shivers wracked his body.

"Dad," Lance heard. "Dad!"

Lance gripped Keith firmly by the shoulder, willing him to wake up.

"Keith! _Keith!_ "

Keith's eyes shot open. Lance couldn’t recognise him. Keith's eyes were clouded over, lost and confused. It was like he couldn’t see Lance, couldn’t see anything. Struggling underneath Lance’s weight, Keith reached out blindly to his side. He found what he was looking for, clutching at his Bayard in a white-knuckled grip, preparing to summon his sword. Lance clamped Keith's wrists and pushed them down on either side of Keith's head.

"Keith! Keith, relax, it's me. It's me."

Keith twisted and turned, his chest heaving against Lance's.

"Keith, look at me!" Lance yelled.

Keith stiffened.

His eyes flashed between grey and blue and violet. He breathed in, out, then went slack.

Keith blinked a few times, shook his head. "What happened?" he rasped.

_He’s back._

"We crashed,” Lance said. “Allura's okay but I can't reach the others and the boat's too heavy to lift on my own."

"Move," Keith said.

Lance was about to say he couldn’t when he was shoved to the side, landing roughly on his bad shoulder.

"OW!"

"Stop complaing," Keith said, ignoring Lance's whining. He looked like he was back to being Keith, all scowly and serious. But Lance couldn't help thinking of the Keith from a moment before. Scared, voice laced with desperation as he whispered the word _dad_.

"On the count of three, push," Keith said, snapping Lance back to the present. He’d managed to crawl into a crouching position, hands braced on the wooden seat above his head.

Lance, tucking his worries away for now, did the same, careful not to bump into Allura.

Keith counted, "One, two, three!"

The boat creaked in protest, but after a few shoves, they finally managed to chuck it off. Blue groaned as she rolled right way up, rocking back and forth before coming to a standstill.

Lance blinked away the harsh sunlight. They seemed to be in a grove, surrounded by what he’d first thought were trees but now he wasn’t so sure. They look like enlarged dandelions, thin stalks five stories high leading to a head of green and yellow puffballs.

Lance turned to ask Keith for his opinion, but Keith had already moved on, crawling over to Pidge and Hunk.

Keith gave Hunk a quick glance, saw that he was breathing and moved on. He hauled Pidge up into a sitting position, their slender limbs dangling like vines. Keith’s voice was feather-soft as he beckoned them into consciousness.

“Lance?”

Allura was pushing herself up onto her feet. Her hair was a mess, loose strands of silver escaping her bun.

Pidge had woken up as well, practically sitting in Keith’s lap. They adjusted their glasses saying, “Well that was fun.”

Lance smiled to himself.

_Sarcastic little Pidgeon._

Hunk finally stirred, groaning. He cracked open one eye, then the other. He blinked and then sat up abruptly. “Are we dead?”

“Yes, Hunk, welcome to the after –”

“Not again Pidge!” Hunk said, pointing an accusatory finger at them. They gave a wicked smile in return.

Allura dusted herself off and straightened her jacket. She chuckled under her breath. “Not one of my best landings but I suppose –” Allura winced. Falling to her knees, she crumpled in on herself, clutching her chest.

Lance rushed to her side, helping her up by the elbow. “Allura?”

Allura tried to step out of Lance’s hold. “Don’t worry,” she said, finding her footing and standing up on her own. “It’s just some bruising. Give me a minute.” She tossed her head back to get rid of the loose strands of hair in her face. As a result, she swayed on her feet. Lance caught her again and helped steady her.

“Keith,” she said, addressing Lance. She then blinked, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

“Uh, over here,” Keith said, giving a little wave.

Allura turned to face him. She straightened her back and held out her hand. “The map?”

Keith stood up (much to Pidge’s displeasure) and dug his hand into his pocket. He withdrew a silver orb.

“Um…” Lance started.

Keith looked down at the orb and wilted. “No,” he said, his eyes going wide in shock. He turned the orb over in his hands, rubbing the surface like one would a genie lamp.

“No! No, I had the map! Lotor dropped it and I grabbed it!”

Pidge took the orb out of Keith’s hands. As they inspected it, their eyes widened with recognition, a little squeak escaping their lips.

"Pidge?" Lance said.

They shrunk in one themselves, receding into their over-sized jacket. “Uh oh.”

Allura took a step closer, hands on hips. “Doctor?”

Pidge scratched the back of their head, an embarrassed smile dancing across their lips. “Uh, okay. So, you remember that white flash that blinded Lotor?”

“And me,” Keith grumbled.

“Yeah, well, this,” they indicated the orb, “was where the light came from. It’s something else Hunk and I have been working on. It’s called a flashlight.” They chuckled nervously. “Get it?”

“PIDGE!” everyone yelled in unison.

“Hey! It’s not my fault!” Pidge yelled back, crossing their arms in defence. “I was aiming for Lotor. If I didn’t do something he would have killed Keith!” Pidge locked eyes with Keith as they said, “And I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

The two friends shared a silent conversation between themselves, communicating only with a twitch of an eyebrow or a glint of something unstranlatable passing across their eyes. It was intimate and strange and powerful. It felt like an electrical charge.

After a moment of their strange conversation, Keith nodded, breaking his eye contact with Pidge and turning his attention the rest of the team. “Pidge is right,” he said, “it wasn’t their fault. It’s mine.”

"It's no one's fault," Lance said.

“Uh, Guys?” Hunk started, but Keith dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

"I'm to blame. It was a bad decision on my part. I'm the reason we're standing here bruised with nothing to show for it!"

Lance sighed.

_Stupid Keith and his stupid hero complex._

“Keith, it wasn’t –”

Keith shot a glare at Lance, immediately shutting him up.

“No,” he said. “It’s. My. Fault.”

“Listen, Mullet –”

“Guys!” Hunk wailed.

“What?” Keith and Lance yelled simultaneously.

“We’ve got company!” Hunk stage-whispered.

They all looked up, following Hunk's line of sight and, sure enough, a small boat-shaped dot was headed their way.

Allura stepped up to the plate. “Everybody, get under the boat. If you want to survive I suggest you shut up and _get down._ ”

Nobody argued. Propping the boat on its side, they all ducked underneath, like a tortoise hiding in its shell.

Hunk was the last to squeeze in, jostling Lance into Keith. Keith sent an ice-cold glare over his shoulder. Lance huffed, turning his attention elsewhere. If Keith wanted to be immature than two could play at that game.

“Um, Allura?" Hunk said. "How do we know when –”

Allura clamped a hand over Hunk’s mouth, shushing him.

In the distance, Lance could hear the whirring of an engine. He made to peek out from under the rim of the boat but was pulled back doggedly by his collar.

“Ow!”

Keith held a finger to his lips. Lance wrenched out of Keith’s grasp but stayed put. 

_Stupid Mullet._

They held their breath, waiting for a sign of safety.

 

***

 

After counting to two thousand three hundred and seventy-six, Lance figured it was safe to speak up.

“Guys, I think they’re probably gone.”

“Or maybe they’re surrounding us and waiting for one of us to make a _rookie mistake_ ,” Keith gritted out.

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Stop being so paranoid, Mullet. And what’s your deal anyway?”

Keith chose to ignore Lance in favour of quietly consulting with Allura.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Stubborn Mullet-head,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Alright,” Allura said, having finished conspiring with Keith. “Let’s move.”

“Finally!” Hunk stood up, taking the boat with him. It toppled over, the sound of cracking wood echoing in the grove around them.

“Hunk!” Lance moaned, stroking at Blue’s underbelly. There was no saving her, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be treated like a piece of driftwood in her final hour.

“We need to find a more defensible position,” Allura said, rifle at the ready. “Doctor, perhaps you can use your little robot to scan the Laith, find the map’s location. Hunk, you’ll stay too and help them. I’ve heard you’re quite handy when it comes to electronics.”

Hunk stood ram-rod straight, giving a very serious salute. "Aye, aye Captain."

Allura then turned her attention to Keith. “Keith, you’ll scout ahead.”

“Aye, Captain,” Keith said, already starting to move.

Allura cleared her throat. “And Lance will go with you.”

Keith stopped, turned and gaped at Allura. “What?”

Allura remained steadfast, even as she clutched at her aching side. She tilted her chin up and gazed down at Keith sternly. “That’s an order,” she said, although her words were beginning to slur.

Keith sucked in his lower lip and muttered a curse under his breath, but didn’t argue with Allura.

Allura nodded, satisfied.

“Okay, enough bossing people around,” Pidge said, handing a rather wobbly Allura off to Hunk who led her to a shady spot. “Let’s check you out while Rover scans the ship.”

Keith gave Pidge a quick one-armed hug, the two sharing one last look before Keith disappeared behind a thick bundle of trees. He didn’t wait for Lance.

Lance shared his own look with Hunk, who could only offer a shrug his shoulders, before running after Keith.

 

***

 

Keith stormed through the grove, weaving between tree trunks and kicking at piles of moss a little too forcifully.

“Lance,” Keith muttered. He unleashed his Bayard and swung his sword, cutting into thin air.

_Stupid Lance, and his stupid charm and his stupid smile and his damned pretty freckles –_

“Hey, Mullet, wait up!”

Keith clenched his jaw.

_Speak of the devil._

Lance ran up behind Keith and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s the rush?”

Keith tore his shoulder out from under Lance’s hand and continued forward. “We need somewhere to hide and fast. Allura’s hurt, we have no food supplies, no map and we don’t know the light cycle of the planet. For all we know, evening could come up in the next five minutes and only the stars know what kind of animals are around here.”

Lance gripped Keith by the elbow, turning him around. “Keith, relax, it’s gonna be okay–”

“No, it’s not!” Keith screamed.

Lance released Keith and backed away. Hurt flashed across his face.

“It’s not!” Keith repeated, a little quieter.

“Okay,” Lance said, raising his hands; placating. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

_Good, you should be afraid._

Keith could feel his breathing becoming shallow, his chest heaving with pent-up anger. His head felt light and his hands were heavy, his feet sinking into the ground and keeping him rooted to the spot, unable to do anything except stay, figure this out, say _something_.

“It’s not okay. It’s not okay because this is my fault!” Keith yelled, ripping the words from his throat, not caring who heard. Screw this planet, screw Sendak and his pirates and everything else that led to this moment. “If I’d just warned Shiro," Keith said, voice shaking, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Told him what I knew, or if I’d gone up with him, then he wouldn’t be dead! And if I’d just jumped into the boat sooner, ran just a little faster, then Lotor wouldn’t have gotten me and I wouldn’t have lost the map and then maybe the boat wouldn’t have crashed and Allura wouldn’t be hurt and Pidge wouldn’t be worried about me even though I promised them they wouldn’t have to be and –”

Arms wrapped around him. Keith struggled, but Lance held fast. Holding tight, he kept Keith’s arms pressed firmly at his sides. Keith tried to swing his sword but it was useless, Lance had him bundled snugly to his chest, refusing to let go. Keith's hand went slack, the blade disappearing back into its handle.

“Keith,” Lance whispered, running a soothing hand up and down his back, “it’s not your fault. Those things happened, and there’s nothing you can do about it now. We need to focus on the now. We need to find a place to stay the night and keep the rest of the group safe. That’s all we need to do right now. Okay?”

Keith nodded, knowing it would make Lance let go.

“Okay,” Lance said as he slowly untangled his arms and stepped back. His hands lingered on Keith’s shoulders before dropping to his sides. At the loss of contact, Keith shivered. He felt cold all over.

He stared at the ground, unwilling to meet Lance’s eyes. His vision blurred then focused, blurred, focused.

_He literally held the door open for me, didn’t even hesitate when I asked him to pick the lock._

“You’re right,” Keith said, still looking at the ground.

“Yeah,” Lance said, nodding.

“It’s not my fault,” Keith said.

“No, it’s not your fault.”

Keith looked up, scrutinzing Lance as he said, “It’s yours.”

“It’s mi – wait, what?”

“It’s your fault,” Keith said, taking a step closer.

“How is this my fault?” Lance said, a frown pulling at his lips.

“Because you let Nyma in,” Keith said rather calmly. Funny, he felt anything but calm.

He took another step forward.

Lance shook his head in confusion. “What?” he said.

“You let her into Allura’s study.”

“Well, yeah,” Lance chuckled nervously, “I asked her if she wanted to help me clean and she said yes.”

“And so, you waltzed in,” Keith said, “and showed her Allura's cabinet.”

“Yes?”

“And she said something along the lines of, ‘Bet you can’t pick that lock,’ and you proved her wrong.”

Lance took a step back. Keith kept moving forward.

“So, you picked the lock,” Keith continued, “and you showed her the map and then she left.”

“Keith,” Lance stuttered, taking another step back.

“She left and told all of her little friends what exactly they were looking for. Only Shiro knew what was up. Shiro figured it out.”

“Wait a minute –”

“And so Lotor got rid of him.”

“Keith –”

Keith stood toe to toe with Lance, their breath mingling, noses touching.

“And it’s your fault,” Keith whispered.

Lance shook his head, mouth open as if to argue. Keith didn't let him.

“It’s all your fault!” He shoved hard at Lance's chest, causing him to trip and fall back.

A loud _crack!_ resounded through the grove. Keith hoped it meant a broken bone.

He towered over Lance, his shadow swallowing him whole. “They killed Shiro all because you tried to impress a girl. How does that make you feel?”

Lance was shaking, eyes wide in horror.

“I –” he stuttered, “I didn’t know. Keith, I swear. I didn’t know. It was just –”

“Harmless flirting?” Keith offered with a shrug of his shoulders. “I get it. Doesn’t matter if you get someone killed, so long as you get the girl. Right?”

Lance ducked his head, chestnut hair falling in front of his eyes. His shoulders shook uncontrollably. Keith waited him out, waited to hear Lance's next excuse, to see how he'd try and dig himself out of this one. 

Finally, after one long silent minute, Lance said something, although Keith couldn’t hear him through the blood pounding in his ears.

“What?” he said, cupping an ear in mock interest.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered.

“My hearing must’ve been damaged in that boat crash because I can’t hear you!”

“ _I’m sorry!_ ” Lance yelled, his cheeks burning red, eyes watering. “Alright? I’m sorry! I didn’t know. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Do you think I’d ever hurt Shiro? Huh? He was my friend. You all are.” Lance was sobbing now, his chest heaving, tears skiing down the slopes of his cheeks.

“I’m sorry! I’m didn’t think, I – I'm sorry…” he tapered off, hanging his head in his hands.

Keith counted to ten, letting everything sink in before he crouched in front of Lance. He pushed Lance’s hands down gently and then held a finger to Lance’s chin. Tilting Lance’s face up, Keith looked him in the eye as he said, “Sorry won’t bring him back.”

 

***

 

_Why are you doing this?_ Lance wanted to ask. _Why? Why? Why?_

“I’m sorry,” he said, the only two words he could think of. They were a pathetic excuse of an apology, he knew that, but they were the only words willing to run off his tongue. The rest stayed stuck in his throat, choking him from the inside.

He hung his head in his hands. He couldn’t look at Keith, afraid he would see Shiro in those greyblueviolet eyes.

He felt warmth at his wrists and slowly, his hands were pulled down away from his face. Keith’s finger rested under his chin and tilted it up, forcing Lance to meet Keith’s stone-cold gaze.

“Sorry won’t bring him back.”

Lance shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. The last few chapters have been so angsty and the next few are... well, not _as_ angsty but pretty close. All I can say is that things do start getting better eventually. 
> 
> On a completely different note, the season 5 trailer???? (SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T WATCHED IT)
> 
>  
> 
> Lance is starting to grow as a leader and I am so proud! I'm just really worried about Keith because he's still in his BOM suit meaning he's still with the BOM and I'm scared that means he isn't gonna be featured a lot like he was in season 4? I missed him so much in season 4 and I refuse to be deprived of his amazing character! And if they don't talk about the you-know-which scene then I'm going to be very disappointed. So yeah... that's the end of my rant ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> See you guys next week Monday!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance meet a gorgeous man, Pidge is a curious birb, and we learn a little more about Keith's expulsion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is looong and a little messy but yeah. Hope you guys enjoy!

Keith regretted the words as soon as he said them.

He watched as Lance’s face froze in a twisted mask of distraught. Lance crumpling in on himself. Lance looking as he’d been cut off from the rest of the world with no hope of return.

His stomach hardened into lead and the words _You did this_ echoed in his head.

_You broke him._

“Lance –"

A gush of air erupted around them. The ground shook underneath them both, causing Keith to stumble back. Lance was still frozen to the spot as a spherical slice of the ground began to rise underneath him.

“Lance!” Keith yelled, trying to bring him back to consciousness.

Lance blinked, shook his head. He looked around him then below and scrambled back with a yelp as the sphere continued to rise out of the ground, elongating into a pillar.

“What the quiznak is that thing!” Lance yelled, clambering to his feet.

The pillar finally came to a standstill, letting out a whoosh of cold air. On closer inspection, Keith realised it was a pod of some kind with a glass door on the front.

Neither Keith nor Lance made any move to open it. They didn’t have to.

The glass door released with a hiss and dissolved into thin air, revealing a ginger-haired, moustachioed man inside. He was reasonably tall and well-built, with pointed ears and blue markings on either cheek. Just like Allura’s.

Lance had walked round to the front of the pod, although he kept a good distance between himself and Keith. He gasped when he saw the man.

The man’s eyes shot open and upon seeing Keith and Lance he screamed.

“AHHH!”

Keith hit the ground hard as the man jumped on top of him, pinning him down by his shoulders.

“This is fantastic!” the man yelled, grinning from ear to ear. “Alteans come to rescue me at last!” He peered down at Keith inquisitively, rubbing his bright orange moustache between two fingers. “Hmmm… how strange.”

“What is?” Lance asked, inching over slowly.

“Your ears. They’re horribly disfigured. And where are your markings?” The man poked at Keith’s cheekbone.

Keith gripped the man by the arm, tucking his leg around the man's to pin it down. Lifting his hips, they rolled over, Keith landing on top. Keith straddled man, holding his forearm underneath the man’s chin in a choke-block. The man coughed and sputtered under Keith's weight.

“Keith!” Lance reprimanded.

“What? He was pinning me to the ground!”

After a stern look from Lance, Keith stood up, releasing the man. After taking a few wheezing breaths, the man peered up at Keith, glared, and then looked at Lance.

“What year is it?” he asked.

“Um,” Lance faltered.

The man scrambled to his feet and rushed back to his pod. Keith gripped his Bayard firmly. The man appeared harmless, but Keith still wanted to be prepared, in case of an attack. The man was muttering to himself as he pushed several buttons on a screen next to the pod. The screen lit up white then changed to a muted blue. The man gasped and staggered backwards, clutching his chest.

“One hundred years.”

“What?” Lance asked, walking over to the screen to take a look.

“I’ve been asleep for one hundred years,” the man said. His eyes darted, taking in his surroundings.

“Where is your ship?” he asked suddenly.

Lance looked up from the screen. “We don’t –"

The man stormed over to Lance and shook him by the shoulders. “You need to take me to Altea!”

“Altea’s gone,” Lance said.

“What?” the man gasped.

“Altea, it was destroyed during the reign of the Galra Empire,” Lance replied. His voice had gone soft.

The man released Lance and stumbled to his pod. He leaned heavily against it, head hung low.

“I’m too late,” the man whispered.

Lance looked at Keith. They locked eyes and Keith felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Lance’s eyes were cold, dark pools of navy blue.

Lance blinked then turned away as if Keith weren’t even there. He walked over to the man and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. He meant it.

The man looked up and asked, “Are there any of us left?”

Lance bit his lower lip. “One, Captain Allura.”

The man stood up abruptly, causing Lance to stagger back. “Allura!” The man gasped. “Is she here?”

“Yes, that’s why we’re out here. She’s hurt and –”

“You must take me to her!" the man said, frantic, “I need to tell her –”

“Woah, easy,” Lance seized the man by his elbows, trying to keep him still. “We’ll take you to her if you tell us who you are,” Lance said. “We don’t really have the liberty to trust strangers.”

The man shrugged out of Lance’s hold and straightened up. Clicking his heels together, hands clasped behind his back he said, “I am Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, advisor to King Alfor of Altea and his daughter, Princess Allura.”

“Princess?” Keith said.

“Yes,” Coran said, marching up to Keith. “The one and only child of King Alfor and the heir to the throne. This is common knowledge. Surely if you know her –”

“Listen, I think you’re thinking of another Allura,” Lance said.

“Tall, dark skin, silver-pink hair with crystal blue eyes. Ears and markings like so,” Coran pointed to his ears and cheeks, “Only pink.”

“That’s… creepily accurate,” Lance said, slow, unsure.

“Wait,” Keith said, “you knew this princess a hundred years ago, right?”

“Yes,” Coran said, wrinkling his nose and his moustache along with it.

“Well I’m taking a wild guess here but I’m sure Alteans don’t live to be a hundred years old. So how can your Allura and our Allura be the same person?”

“The cryopod.”

“The what now?” Lance asked.

“The cryopod,” Coran said, indicating the pod behind him. “It’s a healing chamber we Alteans use specifically for emergencies and especially during battles. It also doubles as a preserver. It can sustain a lifeform for thousands of years if needed. We had several installed in every battleship, including Alfor’s, The Laith.”

“That’s our ship,” Keith said, dumbfounded.

Coran’s ears perked, “Oh thank the stars! So, she’s still intact?”

“Well, as far as we know,” Lance said.

Coran arched a brow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Keith kept his words short and to the point when he said, “Long story short, we’re here for Captain Zacharn’s trove, but the crew who mainly consisted of Galra were actually pirates and have now taken over the ship. We crash landed here and are currently hiding. They have the map and we have nothing.”

Coran froze, his eyes bulging out his head. His moustache twitched.

“You’re telling me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he stalked over to Keith, “that Galra pirates are operating King Alfor’s ship, the last Altean vessel known to all-kind, and that they possess the map to Zarkon’s treasure which is situated on this very planet?” Coran was nose to nose with Keith, breathing heavily.

“Zacharn, and yes,” Keith said.

Coran threw his hands up into the air and started pacing.

“How stupid could you possibly be! Trusting Galra to crew a ship? Stars, it’s unheard of! And the Princess! I can only imagine what she must be going through, stuck with a lot of imbeciles like yourselves. If only I’d acted sooner, notified Alfor of Zarkon’s plans when I had the chance!”

“So, you know about Zarkon?” Lance asked. He’d been watching Coran pace as if it were a tennis match.

Coran stopped in his tracks and turned sharply to face Lance. “Know him?” He yelled, “I had to serve him! I was captured during the war, had to do his every bidding. He threatened to destroy Altea otherwise, said he had bombs set up all over the planet! What was I supposed to do? Nothing! Nothing! That’s what!”

“Okay,” Lance said, stepping cautiously towards Coran. The way he moved, the gentle approach he took, Keith saw how familiar this was to Lance. As if he’d done this before.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” Lance said, his voice low and soothing. “You have been asleep for a hundred years. Maybe you should –”

Coran ignored Lance, addressing Keith instead. “Take me to her.”

“Huh?”

“I did what you asked. I said who I was, explained my connection to the princess. I’ve held up my end of the bargain, now I expect you to meet yours.”

Keith was in shock.

He hesitated, still unsure about the Altean’s intentions. But, Coran did have a point. He’d answered their questions truthfully and he appeared to not have any weapons on him.

“Alright,” Keith said, hanging his Bayard on his belt, “follow me.”

“What!” Lance screeched, outraged. “You’re just gonna lead some strange one-hundred-year-old guy we just met to our friends who are severely handicapped? Do you hear yourself?”

Keith tried to meet Lance’s eyes, but he couldn’t. He talked to the ground as he said, “He answered our questions. I think he deserves some answers himself.”

With that, Keith turned and started heading back the way they came, Coran right behind him and Lance just a little further behind, grumbling all the while.

 

***

 

“Where is she? Where's the princess?”

Coran pushed past Keith, causing him to stumble, as he ran towards the wreckage that was once Blue.

“Stand back!” Hunk said, holding up his Bayard.

“Hunk, it’s okay, he’s with us!” Lance called, running to catch up with Coran.

Hunk looked uncertain but after exchanging a few words with Lance he lowered his Bayard and tucked it back into his belt. He extended a hand and Coran took it, introducing himself.

“Keith!”

Keith spotted Pidge underneath a tree, along with Allura whose head was pillowed in their lap.

Keith walked over, catching a few bits of Coran’s rambling as he walked past.

“You really are a funny-looking species, aren’t you? What did you say you were again?”

“Human,” Hunk said, his voice tinged with slight annoyance.

Pidge lifted Allura’s head gently and placed it on a make-shift pillow made from their coat before joining Keith.

“What’s going on? I thought you were looking for a place to hide?”

“We were but –” Keith looked over his shoulder and saw Lance burst into laughter at something Coran had said. No one could possibly guess, looking at Lance now.

_Sorry won’t bring him back._

“I made a mistake,” Keith said, ducking his head.

“Yeah you did,” Pidge said. “You went out to find a hideout and came back with a ginger lunatic.” Pidge peered behind Keith, glaring at Coran, before turning their attention back to Keith. “Who is that guy?”

“It’s… complicated,” Keith sighed.

Pidge crossed their arms, giving Keith an unimpressed look.

“Then un-complicate it.”

Keith explained the situation as best he could, leaving out the details about his fight with Lance. He was too embarrassed, too ashamed to admit to what he did, the cruel things he had said. He needed to fix it, but he had to do it on his own. When, though, he didn’t know.

“Okay, back up,” Pidge said, pinching the bridge of their nose. “You’re telling me that Allura is over a hundred years old, is actually a princess of a long-lost civilization and that that guy,” they pointed at Coran, who was busy chasing Rover as if he were a butterfly, “is her advisor.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh no, it’s not a lot. It’s an overload of _bullshit_ to take in!” Pidge yelled, their ears turning bright pink.

“Listen, Pidge, I get it. You want answers, and I’m sure Coran will be more than happy to give them. But right now, Allura is hurt and we need to find shelter.”

Pidge snapped their mouth shut. They still looked disgruntled but the pink was beginning to fade from their ears.

“Fine,” they said, after taking a moment to consider Keith’s words. “But we need to hurry, Allura’s getting worse.”

“What’s that?”

Pidge jumped three meters into the air when Coran popped up at their shoulder.

“Dude!” they yelled as they scampered to Keith’s side, “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” Coran said, tilting his head in confusion. “I heard the princess’ name and I was hoping you’d know where I could find her.”

“She’s under the tree there. She’s hurt, so she’s not –”

Coran didn’t stop to hear the rest. He left dirt clouds in his wake as he ran to Allura.

Pidge chased after him, followed by Keith. Hunk and Lance made their way over as well, bringing Rover along with them.

They came to an abrupt stop at the sight before them. Coran was cradling Allura’s head in his lap, gently brushing stray hairs away from her face. He was whispering to her quietly, barely audible.

“Princess? It’s me, it’s Coran.”

Allura mumbled, struggling to open her eyes.

“Coran?”

“Yes! Yes, Princess, I’m here. I’m here.”

“Coran, you have – wonderful eyes,” Allura smiled before collapsing back into a light sleep.

Coran looked up at the rest of the group, alarm in his eyes.

“We need to get her to the cryopod, stat.”

Hunk scratched his head. “The what now?”

 

***

 

“No. No, no, no, no!” Coran was running rapid circles around the cryopod, hands pulling at his hair in frustration.

“Come on! Work! Wor – Ow! Quiznak!” Coran clutched his foot, having kicked the cryo-pod a little too hard.

The rest of the group stood to the side watching the spectacle in interest.

Lance was a bouncing ball of nervous energy, looking between Coran, the cryopod and a semi-conscious Allura who was being cradled in Hunk’s arms. Hunk looked equally distressed. Pidge had their head tilted to the side, eyes squinting as if they were trying to solve a difficult equation. Keith could see their fingers itching to take apart the cryopod and see how it works.  
Keith stood a little ways away from the group, arms crossed, tapping his foot in irritation. They were wasting daylight hours

“Coran,” he said. “We need to move on.”

“No!” Coran’s head popped out from behind the cryopod. His hair was in disarray, eyes bugging out of his head. Even his moustache was frizzled. “We can’t! Not until the Princess is healed!”

“Coran,” Hunk said, adjusting his grip on Allura so her head nestled against his chest, “she’ll have a better chance at healing if she’s protected. Somewhere safe, preferably with a bed, maybe some food?”

“What Hunk is trying to say,” Pidge said, glaring up at Hunk, “Is that the cryopod is a lost cause and that if you want her to not die, we need to find some cover and see to her wounds.”

“PIDGE!” they all yelled in unison.

“Can you not!” they yelled in retaliation. “And I’m just being honest,” they said, raising their hands in defence.

“I hate to say it but, I agree,” Lance said. He stepped up to Coran, who was repeatedly pushing buttons on a dead screen, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Coran, we need to keep her safe. The Princess needs your help, now you can give it to her.”

Coran stilled. He looked up, sharing a look with Lance. He straightened up, clicking his heels together before facing the rest of the group.

“Alright, plan B. Follow me, everyone,” he said, turning on his heel, about to walk away.

Lance grabbed his collar to stop him. Coran kept marching on the spot. “Uh, Coran?” Lance asked, “Where are you going?”

“To my lodgings!” Coran said, matter-of-fact.

“Your lodgings?” Keith asked. Coran came to a stop. Lance let go.

“Yes,” he said, “Didn’t you listen?”

Suddenly, Coran turned his attention to the ground, as if he’d dropped something. He scuffed his shoe amongst the moss before exclaiming, “Ah ha!” He pressed down on what appeared to be a button with the ball of his foot, causing a loud _crack!_ to echo around them. The cryopod began to sink back where it came from.

_So no broken bones…_

“I was enslaved by Zarkon and made the keeper of this planet,” Coran said, “seeing as I was the only one who understood the mechanics. Mechanic,” he chuckled. “Rhymes with Coranic. Sort of.” Coran scratched his head, lost in thought, then came to again. “He went so far as to rip out my memory chip to ensure I didn’t tell anyone his top-secret secrets.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Keith said, shaking his head. “This planet belonged to Captain Zacharn. Why would Zarkon –”

“Memory chip?” Pidge interrupted, intrigue overriding their irritancy with the strange Altean.

“Yes. When I was captured, Zarkon had it installed. All of his main staff and generals did as well. It was to ensure that he could control what information went in and out. Stop the gossip pool from churning etcetera.”

“And he ripped yours out?” Pidge asked, edging closer to Coran.

“Yes, it’s right here,” Coran said, pointing behind his left ear. Pidge scurried up to him and rose onto their tiptoes to get a better look. Keith, curious, looked over their shoulder. Behind Coran’s ear was a small slot, almost as if someone had cut a thin slice of flesh and removed it like a piece of cake.

“It’s quite small, a thin little sliver of metal. It’s got an aquamarine green marking on it, like this one.” He indicated the mark on his cheek. “You haven’t seen it, have you?”

Everyone shook their head in unison. Coran wilted, but then perked up again immediately. “That’s alright. I still have all of my essential memories,” he said, unaffected by Pidge’s prodding, “but the more important ones are a little fuzzy.”

“Like?” Lance asked, taking a peek now as well.

“Well if he doesn’t have the memories then he can’t really tell us, now can he? Can you?” Hunk asked, again readjusting his grip on Allura. She gave one loud snore in response.

“There are little things here and there,” Coran said, standing up to his full height again against Pidge’s protests, “like his treasure. I know it’s definitely here.”

“Do you know where he buried it?” Lance asked, eyes wide with hope.

Coran shook his head. “Unfortunately, that one’s non-existent. Vanished. Poof! Gone.”

Lance drooped in disappointment.

“You mean Zacharn’s treasure,” Keith said, irritation bubbling.

“Wait,” Coran said, causing Lance to pop up again like a daisy in springtime, “I — I r-r-remember. I do. I – treasure! Lots of treasure buried in the centroid — centroid — centroid of the mechanism!” Coran was beginning to stutter and shake, his words tumbling out fast and blurred. “And there was this big door opening and closing... and opening and closing... and Captain Zarkon wanted to make sure nobody could ever get to his treasure so I helped him and — AAAAAH!” He yelled, clutching his head. “Data inaccessible!” he said, shaking his head. “Reboot! Reboot! Reboot! Re-”

_SMACK!_

“Lance!” Hunk yelped.

“What?” Lance said, shaking out his hand. “He was stuck.”

Coran blinked a few times then straightened up. He was completely unfazed even as a very prominent red hand-shaped mark blossomed on his cheek.

“Ah, sorry about that. Where was I?”

Lance was about to answer when Pidge slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Zarkon gave you housing while you kept watch over the planet.”

“Ah yes! He was an absolute Fascist, that Captain Zarkon, but he ensured that I had proper lodgings.”

Lance glared at Pidge who stuck their tongue out in return. Hunk was still worrying over Allura who was beginning to drool in her sleep.

Seeing as no one else had anything to say, Keith stepped forward. “Alright, take us to it.”

“Right! Follow me,” Coran said, doing a one-eighty spin and heading through what looked like a fence of tubular aloe plants.

No one made to follow him.

Coran popped out from the tubular plants, orange hair covered in moss. “Well come on! It’s not too far, we’ll be there in just a tick!” He disappeared back into the tubes, the rustling of leaves and cracking branches the only indication that he was still there.

Keith started after him, followed by Hunk.

Pidge and Lance stayed a little ways back, murmuring to one another.

“What’s a tick?”

“I have no idea.”

 

***

 

Coran’s house turned out to be what Keith could only describe as one gigantic moss-covered egg.

It was covered from head to toe in moss and vines, the house jutting out from a sort of rock formation. Inside was a whole other story.

“Welcome to my humble abode!” Coran said as they stepped through the threshold.

“Woah,” Hunk gasped.

Keith felt as if he’d stepped into the inner workings of a clock. Coran’s ‘house’ was one large room made of copper, bits and pieces sticking out of the walls for no other apparent reason than because it looked fascinating. What was once shiny brass had now gone rusty after years of neglect.

“Sweet!” Lance said, settling down on a large cushion as if he owned the place.

“Excuse the mess,” Coran said, rushing around to put things in order. There was what resembled a table and a chair on one side of the room, whilst sheets and clothing were scattered across the floor. “I was quite neat back in the day, although, in my defence, it has been over a hundred years since I last spring-cleaned.” He chuckled at his own joke before turning to Hunk. “I should have some spare bedding stored somewhere, seeing as you’ll all be staying the night, hm?”

Coran didn’t wait for a response, setting off into the darkness, humming a strange tune.

“Okay,” Lance said, shimmying further down onto the cushion, “he’s crazy but I’ll overlook it. This is place is amazing.”

Pidge took off their glasses and wiped them clean on their shirt, before replacing them on their nose. They had no need, seeing as they weren’t prescription glasses, but it was a habit. They were humming with excitement, bursting with unanswered questions.

“Look at these markings,” they said. “They’re identical to the ones on the map.” Keith looked at the walls around them and, sure enough, Pidge was right.

Moss had delved its way into the deep grooves and lines that looked very like the designs of the map’s. Keith’s hands tingled, wishing for the familiar smooth surface of the obsidian orb.

“Maybe it’s mirroring the map?” Pidge thought aloud. “Or maybe the map mirrors the planet? If one we –”

“Look what I found!” Coran appeared with piles of blankets and pillows in on arm and a stack of plates in the other.

“Uh, Keith?”

Hunk was still standing with Allura in his arms. She was snoring lightly, snuggling into Hunk’s chest.

Keith looked around, trying to find a suitable place for Allura to rest. Lance caught his eye.

“Lance,” Keith said, walking over to him.

“Keith,” Lance retorted, venom in his voice.

Keith winced.

_Not right now._

“Please move,” he said, trying to sound as courteous as possible. “Allura needs somewhere to rest.”

Lance looked up to Keith then to Hunk. His eyes softened as he watched Allura’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. He sighed and got up.

Hunk looked relieved as he rushed to the pillow and gently placed Allura down. He struggled to disentangle her from him, but eventually, she let go and flopped onto the cushion, sighing in her sleep.

“Thank you,” Keith said as Lance walked past him.

Lance stopped and glared at Keith. “I didn’t do it because you asked me to.”

“I know,” Keith said.

“I did it because I care about her. Because she’s my friend. That’s what friends do.”

“I know,” Keith said again.

“Do you?” Lance snapped.

Keith ducked his head, using his bangs as a shield. It was a cowardly thing to do, but in that moment, he felt as small as a mouse and as guilty as the devil themself. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just what he’d insinuated, the amount of blame and guilt he’d shoved onto Lance. All the anger he’d been feeling towards himself, everything he’d bottled up, had exploded. And Lance had been the one caught in the crossfire.

Seeing that Keith had no response planned, Lance moved on. Grabbing a pillow and a blanket from Coran, he walked all the way to the opposite side of the room and settled down, deliberately refusing to make eye-contact with anyone.

“Keith?”

Hunk was at Keith’s shoulder, worry etched in the crinkle of his brow.

Keith couldn’t look him in the eye and not spill everything, so he kept his eyes glued firmly to the floor.

Pidge cleared their throat, diffusing the tension. “What you got there, Coran?”

Coran lit up like a shooting star. “Oh, well, when I was digging around for these old things,” he wiggled his arm holding the bedding, causing one of the pillows to fall to the floor, “I managed to find that my kitchen was still intact. So, I made us all a little light supper.” Whilst he spoke, Coran handed a pillow, a blanket and a plate of food to each of them.

What appeared to be a pile of green goo was dished onto each plate. Keith wiggled his plate. The goo wiggled too.

Hunk cleared his throat. “Um, not that I’m not grateful for the food, because I really am, but, after a hundred years, wouldn’t this… interesting meal be expired by now?” he poked at his goo and retracted his hand immediately as if it had bitten him. For all Keith knew, it had.

“Ah but that’s the beauty of this little delicacy!” Coran said, stepping up to Hunk’s side. “We’d use this on all of our travels in space. Its small, compact, full of nutrition and best of all: it has no expiration date! Enjoy!” He placed a spoon on Hunk’s dish with a smile before offering the rest of the group a some-what clean utensil.

“Lovely,” Hunk whimpered as if the word was a synonym for ‘help’.

 

***

 

Lance tried to block out the noise around him. The two suns outside were taking forever to set, meaning his excuse of wanting to sleep had to be put off.

Coran and Pidge were busy chattering in a corner, Pidge adjusting their glasses in wonderment every minute or so. Allura was still sleeping soundly on his (now her) cushion, murmuring in her sleep. No one understood what she was saying except for the quiet, “Shiro,” that would bubble from her lips.

Hunk had come over, bearing what Lance guessed was supposed to be food in the form of green goo. Lance had politely declined. Hunk had hovered but when Lance said nothing more, he took the hint and left Lance to his own devices, instead settling with Rover and fiddling with his settings. He said something about re-routing a new whatcha-ma-thingie to scan the Laith for the map’s whereabouts. So far, he’d managed to set a small fire with a spark gone awry which was quickly smothered out by Keith with his leather jacket.

Hunk gave Keith an embarrassed chuckle once the last flames were put to rest, which Keith returned with some or other joke, seeing as Hunk burst out laughing.

Lance turned his attention to the landscape outside the entrance. He’d chosen this spot specifically because of the view. He didn’t like feeling cooped up and he really didn’t want to interact with anyone right now.

_Sorry won’t bring him back._

_Your fault._

Lance shivered.

He was telling the truth when he said he had no idea about Nyma’s intentions. She’d made it sound so easy, like a game.

 

§

 

“What’s in there?” Nyma asked, examining Allura’s cabinet. “Can we open it?”

Lance stopped his dusting, tucking the rag in his pocket. “Uh, not really supposed to, seeing as it’s the Captain’s personal cabinet.”

Nyma looked disappointed, her lips pursing into a pout. “I only want to take a peek. And besides,” Nyma came up to Lance’s side, rubbing a soothing hand on his shoulder, “I’ll give you a reward for being brave.”

That sealed the deal.

Lance gave his most devilish smile before waltzing over to the cabinet. He was going to make a big gesture of flinging the doors wide open. Only they were locked.

“Huh,” he said, pulling at the handles again.

“Oh,” Nyma said, peering over Lance’s shoulder. “That’s a pity.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, although he was slightly relieved. He considered Allura a friend. Snooping around her stuff wasn’t really something a friend would do.

Nyma sighed, heading to the door. “Guess I’ll have to keep that reward to myself.”

Lance froze.

“No, wait!”

Nyma stopped and glanced at him over her shoulder with a coy smile. “Yes?”

Lance tucked his fingers into her hair and, with a dramatic hand gesture, took out a hairpin.

He waggled his eyebrows before turning back to the cabinet and began picking the lock. It was almost too easy, the lock popping open in less than a minute.

Nyma gasped as the cabinet doors swung open.

“You really are the best at everything!” she said, giving his bicep a squeeze.

Lance’s cheeks flushed and he could feel the heat pouring all the way down to his toes.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that –”

He felt a soft press of lips on his cheek and then subsequently became completely numb.

“Your reward,” Nyma purred as she reached for the little chest on the top shelf.

Lance had to reboot before he could comprehend what Nyma was doing.

“I don’t think –”

Nyma’s lilac eyes widened in awe. Inside the chest sat an obsidian-black orb, strange markings decorating its surface.

“What is that?” Lance said, trying to get a closer look.

Nyma shut the lid with a loud _clap!_ “No idea,” she said as she placed the chest back on its shelf and closed the cabinet doors.

“Lock up for me, won’t you? I forgot I have some chores to do!”

She was already out the door before Lance could blink.

 

§

 

“Lance.”

Lance startled and looked up. Black hair, pale skin, greyblueviolet eyes.

He huddled in on himself, drawing his blanket closer.

“Lance,” Keith said again.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Lance said to the wall, refusing to meet Keith’s eyes.

“I know. All I’m asking is that you listen.”

“Why should I?” Lance snapped.

The room went silent and Lance could feel four pairs of eyes on him.

“I think I heard enough back in the grove,” Lance said, quietly.

Keith sighed and Lance thought he had won, that Keith would leave him alone but then he caught movement in the corner of his eye and watched as Keith sat down where he stood. His legs folded easily underneath him and he looked regal even though he was slumped forward. An origami crane.

Lance pinched himself underneath his blanket.

“I want to explain –”

Lance scoffed.

“And to apologise.”

“Apology accepted,” Lance said. “You can go away now.”

Keith’s hands turned into fists in his lap, knuckles bone-white.

“I had no right –”

“No, you didn’t –”

“Will you let me finish!” Keith yelled.

Lance finally met Keith’s eyes. He expected to see rage and wrath, his irises flashing like they always did when he was angry. But it was the complete opposite. Keith’s eyes had dissolved into a dull dove grey, listless and sad. If there was anger, it was not directed at Lance.

“Okay,” Lance found himself saying. “I’ll listen.”

Keith blinked, surprise etched on his face. But then he recollected himself. He spoke in low tones, a conversation only meant for the two of them. “I could blame my outburst on grief, but then I’d be lying.” Keith took a shaky breath, continued, “I’d be lying because when I said those words, I believed them. I wanted someone else to blame. I didn’t want the fault to be mine even though it is.”

“Keith –”

Keith raised a hand, silencing Lance. Lance settled back against his pillow and waited for Keith to continue.

“I keep a lot of things hidden because I don’t feel I can trust people. Even Pidge sometimes.” Lance hummed in thought. Pidge and Keith were as thick as thieves. To hear Keith say such a thing…

“I had my suspicions about Sendak,” Keith continued, “but I didn’t say anything because I thought Shiro would dismiss me. And I couldn’t have that. He was –” Keith ducked his head and Lance instantly wanted to reach forward, to brush the thick black curtain away from Keith’s face. He didn’t. “It’s stupid but, he was sort of like the big brother I’ve never had,” Keith whispered. “I’m a foster kid, so I don’t really know what it’s like to have someone to look up to. And Shiro was just – he was Shiro. And I didn’t realise how much that meant to me until he was gone. I haven’t lost anyone like that since my dad left.” Keith was no longer speaking to the ground but rather looking out of the large opening that acted as both entrance and window. Gold streaked through his hair, and Lance saw for the first time that it wasn’t black but rather a deep, rich brown.

“A few months before I got expelled from the Garrison,” Keith said, tone steady, almost like a narrator for a story, “I’d heard word about my dad for the first time in three years. I was visiting Ms. Raqa at the inn for a weekend and met an old friend of his by. They said they saw him at the Garrison Space Station.” Keith smiled a sad smile, so small it was barely there. “All my life I’d wanted to join my dad up on the station, go with him on his travels. And the opportunity was right there. But I was too young, couldn’t join the older cadets on their trips to the station. So, I did what I did best.”

“Bullied them into submission?” Lance offered with a weak chuckle.

“Close, but no,” Keith said. “I did make life a living hell for Commander Iverson.”

Lance winced at the name. Commander Iverson was the head of the Garrison. He was also the harshest, most taciturn and unfeeling person one could never hope to encounter.

“I did everything. Hide-outs in the shuttles that were meant to go to the Space Station, bullying my teachers thinking somehow, I could jump two grades. I even tried to get Pidge to hack the system and change my age,” Keith sighed, his shoulders drooping.

“Course all that got me was a one-way ticket to a dishonourable discharge.”

It made sense, Lance realised. Keith was the best in the class, knew all the answers, could break apart a model ship and put it back together with his eyes closed. When it came to flying, he knew things Senior Cadets were only just beginning to learn. And the teachers praised him for it. Until he started fighting with them about anything and everything. He’d address Commander Iverson with complete disregard, only to be stared down by the rest of Iverson’s company.

He had stood on his own two feet, had put his education, his future at risk, all for the off chance that he might see his father again.

“I was so angry,” Keith said. He changed his position, now sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, facing the window entirely. “And my foster mom had to pay for it. She deserves so much better, after all the shit she’s had to put with since she took me in. So, when that map fell into my hands and Shiro started showing me the ropes I felt as if I’d finally found some sort of purpose, something I was good at that wouldn’t hurt the people I cared about. All that anger kinda just disappeared, and I was actually opening up to people. To Shiro, and Hunk and you.” Lance saw Keith’s head tilt, although his hair was covering most of his face, so Lance didn’t know if he was being looked at or not. He hoped he was. He really, really hoped.

“When we lost Shiro... When I thought it was because of me, that part of me that I thought had gone away resurfaced. I was angry and hurt and it felt like my dad all over again. And then I heard Nyma in the galley, how you’d picked the lock and Shiro had caught on. And I latched onto that.”

Keith tore his gaze away from the outside view and directed it at Lance. Lance nearly gasped. Keith’s eyes were so open, unclouded and exposed. Lance felt as if he were seeing right through Keith and into his underbelly, the clockwork of his heart and what made Keith _Keith_.

“I blamed you. I put all that anger and frustration onto your shoulders without even stopping to ask you for your side of the story. It was wrong and selfish and I was cruel and I’m sorry.” He huffed a harsh laugh, self-deprecating. “‘I’m sorry’. Those words can’t take away the pain I inflicted, it’s like smashing a plate and then trying to put it back together. They’re pathetic really.”

Lance shrugged. “It’s the only words we’ve got.”

Keith hummed. A moment of silence. Of sunlight and thew strange sounds known to this planet alone. Then, he said something, voice lyrical as if he were reciting a poem. But for the life of him, Lance couldn’t understand a word of it.

“Uh, could you repeat that?”

Keith gave another soft smile. “It’s something I remember reading in one of my mother’s old books. _From one soul to another, please forgive all the pain I have caused and may we walk hand in hand as equals._ ”

Lance only managed to stutter out a measly, “Wow.”

Keith ducked his head, hiding behind his bangs once again. “What I said was wrong, and selfish. I had no right to say any of those things. And you have every right to be angry with me, which is why I understand if you don’t want to –”

Lance didn’t stop himself when he reached out to brush Keith’s hair away this time. He drew back the dark curtains, revealing greyblueviolet eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Keith.”

Keith looked up, stricken with worry.

Lance sighed, tucked a lock of hair behind Keith’s ear and said, “You’re a real asshole.”

“I know,” Keith sniffed.

“And what you said was even more ass-holey.”

Keith nodded, although there was an unvoiced question in his eyes.

Lance stayed quiet.

Keith cocked an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

Lance kept a straight face. “Yeah, that’s about it.”

Keith hesitated, then asked, “So, um, do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Your choice,” Lance said, retracting his hand.

Keith looked utterly confused. It was almost cute, in a wat. He started to get up, then stopped, looking to Lance for a sign. Lance didn’t give him one. So, Keith stood up and brushed himself off.

“I guess I’ll… Leave you alone then?”

Lance said nothing, choosing to admire the sunset instead.

Keith sighed and slowly trudged away, tail between his legs.

_Five. Four. Three. Two –_

“Hey, Keith!”

Keith whipped his head around, startled.

Lance gave his most charming smile as he said, “Apology accepted.”

Keith stared at him, his mouth resembling a large O.

“Seriously!” he yelled.

Lance burst out laughing. It was the kind of laughter you saved for special moments with special people, the belly-clutching, unattractive snorting kind. And he relished every second of it.

“Oh! You should have seen your face!”

Keith threw his arms into the air and did a three-sixty turn on the spot, looking up to the heavens as if to say, _why me?_. He looked like a dog trying to chase his tail, without much success.

“Well, I’m glad you’re amused!” Keith yelled. He looked as if he was about to tear his hair out. But then he sighed, cupping his face in his hands. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

Lance wiped the last tear of laughter from his eye as he said, “Yeah, all’s forgiven. Just try not to be too much of an ass next time, Mullet.”

Keith’s eyebrows scrunched, the way they always did when he was annoyed but, even from this distance, Lance could see the twitch of his lips. Keith was a grouch and he was pretty good at keeping to himself. However, when it came to those deep emotions – anger, guilt, affection – Keith was terrible at keeping a straight face. And that made Lance smile even more.

Keith shook his head in amusement, giving a mock salute before heading over to Pidge and Coran. Lance couldn’t help but admire how the last rays of sunlight made Keith’s hair look like pure dark chocolate, the kind his mother used to make from scratch. He could still taste the bitter-sweetness, the tang of orange peel she put in for that extra zing.

Lance thought of Keith’s hair, and how it would smell if he were to bury his face in Keith’s neck; to stroke the soft brown-black strands. If Keith would smell of orange blossom or something harsher, like oil and rope burn and fire. He really, really wanted to know.

“Oh quiznak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to try and fit that "I'm a doctor, but not that kind of doctor" line but it just didn't go with the flow unfortunately :/ If you have any questions or queries hmu in the comments or come chat to me on my tumblr @subtlehysteria


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parley and power play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter than usual but I promise the next chapter is quite long and with good reason (¬‿¬) Hope you enjoy!

The two suns were nearing the horizon, bathing the “Egg”, as Keith had baptized it, in an orange glow.

Pidge and Hunk were off to one side, busy finalizing Rover’s scanner while Lance was busy snoring in the corner near the entrance. When Keith was sure he was asleep, he pulled Lance’s blanket up over his shoulders, smoothing out the crinkles gently so as not to wake him.

“You seem quite fond of number two.”

Keith startled and turned to find Coran a little too close for comfort.

“Coran!” he whispered, “Please stop doing that!”

Coran blinked, tilting his head. He looked like the parrot his first foster parents had owned. It was always squawking in the middle of the night, causing Keith insomnia for over a month. Come to think of it, it had orange markings on its white feathers and everything…

“Well, are you?” Coran asked, unnerved by Keith’s scowl.

“Am I what?”

“Fond of number two?”

“Who?”

“Number two,” Coran indicated Lance. “I have you ranked by height, seeing as I keep getting your names muddled.”

“Right,” Keith said, sceptical. He stepped away from Lance, not wanting their conversation to wake him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Coran said, following closely behind. There was intrigue in his eyes. It was unnerving.

Keith stopped, turning to facing Coran. “I don’t have to if I don’t want to.”

“Oh!” Coran beamed, wiggling his eyebrows. “So, you’re more than fond of him?”

“I didn’t say that!” Keith said, pitching his voice low. He didn't want Hunk or Pidge or, stars forbid, Lance, to hear.

“But you didn’t deny it!” Coran said, pointing an accusing finger in Keith’s face.

Keith opened his mouth, trying to think of a response but his well of words had dried up, leaving him nothing to work with.

He huffed, batting Coran’s finger out of his face irritably. Coran gave him a look to which Keith averted his gaze.

“There’s no shame in it, number three,” Coran said, clapping Keith on the shoulder. “On Altea, relationships of all kinds were celebrated. We considered love a gift, no matter the form.”

“I’m not ashamed of liking a man if that’s what you mean,” Keith muttered.

“Then what’s stopping you?” Coran asked.

Keith stole a glance over Coran’s shoulder. Lance was haloed in a soft orange glow, his chestnut hair becoming a rich copper brown. In this lighting, his freckles were extra prominent, dancing across his cheekbones and nose. In that moment, Keith wished he could draw. He wanted to capture that image and pin it up somewhere he could always see.

He turned his attention back to Coran who was giving him an expectant look.

“He doesn’t feel the same way,” Keith whispered.

“And how do you know that?” Coran asked, arching a brow.

Keith resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “He likes girls, it’s a well-known fact.”

Coran smiled, giving Keith’s shoulder a light squeeze.

“Facts can often be revealed as falsehoods in disguise,” he said. “That was something King Alfor liked to say. He also spoke of how rules were meant to be broken, especially when love was involved.” With that, Coran gave a sly wink and Keith’s back a friendly pat before walking off.

Keith was left speechless. 

_Am I really that obvious? Does Pidge know? Does Hunk?  Shit, does Lanc_ _e?_

“Whatever you’re overthinking about, stop it.” 

Keith glared over at Pidge who ignored him in favour of replacing a bolt in Rover.

“I’m not –”

“You are,” Pidge said, a tone of finality in their voice.

Keith huffed. He crossed his arms tightly, hunching in on himself.

_That’s such a Keith thing to do._

Keith quickly straightened up. _Fucking Lance_. Keith fumbled, now knowing what to do with his hands. In the end, he stuffed them in his pants pockets. He wished he had his mother’s jacket, but he’d left it back on the ship. During all the hustle and bustle, there hadn’t been time to grab it. He wanted the comfort it brought, the security. Lance's sleeping form caught his eye once more. He was bundled up tightly in his blanket, hair splaying on his cushion. For a moment, Keith considered what it would be like to share Lance’s blanket, to sit next to him, their thighs touching, knees knocking, maybe their ankles overlapping. Just, something, some small indication that he was there, that they were together, warm and comfortable and safe. Maybe Lance would sling an arm around Keith, maybe Keith would rest his head on Lance’s shoulder, burrowing under their shared blanket. Maybe Lance would smile and kiss Keith’s temple as they settled down and watched the last of the sun’s rays dip under the horizon, bringing out the stars; a night sky perfect for stargazing. Maybe they could just sit there, together, and not have to worry about anything.

_What if Coran’s right?_ Keith thought. _Maybe Lance could… maybe we could... But – no. No, what if he’s wrong? What if –_

“I said stop,” Pidge huffed.

“Do you always have to be right?” Keith said, seething.

Pidge smirked around the screwdriver in their mouth. “It comes with the title,” they said.

“Of what, may I ask?” Keith said, hands on hips, sarcasm dripping off him in waves.

“You may and Child Genius and Astronomer Extraordinaire, if you must know,” Pidge said, looking far too satisfied with themself.

Hunk chortled. “You forgot Almighty of Modesty.”

Pidge looked as if they were about to reply when a loud, piercing, high-pitched scream bounced against the walls.

Hunk looked to Pidge, startled.

“It wasn’t me!” they protested.

“Then who? –” Hunk’s question was answered when Coran came scrambling through the doorway, tripping over Lance in the process.

“Ow! Coran? What the quiznak!” Lance yelled, rubbing the sore spot on his shin.

“Oh,” Coran said, putting his screaming on pause. “You know that saying?”

“Coran, what’s wrong?” Keith asked.

Coran's look of terror snapped back into place. “Well, I went out for a bit to, uh, relieve myself when I ran into the rest of your crew.”

As if to prove his point, laserfire began streaking through the entrance, barely missing Coran’s head.

“GET DOWN!” Lance yelled as he tackled Coran to the floor. Coran landed with an uncomfortable _oof!_ but was otherwise safe. Lance shuffled them off to the side, out of the crossfire, before summoning his bayard. Keith, ducking low, crawled over to Lance, summoning his sword. He was preparing for battle when he heard someone call out a, “Stop! Cease Fire!”

The laserfire halted.

Everyone shared a look.

Lance put a finger to his lips before peeking over the rim of the entrance, gun at the ready.

“We call for parley!” someone yelled.

Lance quickly ducked down again. “It’s Lotor,” he said, “waving around a scrap of white.”

“Lotor?” Hunk asked.

“If it’s alright with the Captain,” Lotor called from down below. He sounded far too calm, projecting his voice as if addressing a crowd for a formal speech. “I’d like to speak with Keith. No tricks, just a polite discussion between men.”

“He’s come to bargain for the map.”

Everyone’s heads snapped to the cushion where Allura was sitting up on her elbows. She winced, putting a light hand on her bruised ribs.

“Princess!” Coran ran to her, embracing her fiercely (although minding her sore side).

Allura stumbled under Coran’s weight, her eyes wide with shock. “Coran?”

“Captain, what did you mean?” Keith asked. He didn’t want to ruin the moment but at the same time, there were more pressing matters. Like imminent death by laser gun.

Allura gently removed herself from Coran’s embrace, although not before sharing a small smile. “He’s calling for parley,” she said. “That’s why he’s hoisting the white flag. It’s an old custom. I don’t know why else he’d want to speak unless it’s to bargain for the map.”

“So that means -” Pidge started.

“He thinks we still have the map!” Keith finished for them.

“So, they haven’t found it either?” Lance asked, still crouching low, shotgun at the ready.

Hunk shrugged. “Looks like it.”

“I’m going to go speak with him,” Keith said, making to stand up.

Lance grabbed him by the collar, hauling him down again. “Are you nuts? These are pirates, Galra pirates! And you think you can just walk up to them and have a friendly chat?”

“He’ll be safe,” Allura said, now standing with the help of Coran, “It’s the law of the white flag. The two parties meet in the middle, have their discussion and then return to their respective parties unharmed. That is the law.”

“And you expect a bunch of Galra to follow that law?” Lance asked, exasperated.

“If my deductions are correct, then Lotor should stick to the custom. He thinks its the only way to get the map.”

“Lance,” Keith said, drawing Lance's attention back to him, “I’ll be okay.” Keith made a show of tucking his bayard (sans sword blade) into the back of his belt, patting it. “I know how to look after myself.” Lance frowned, a crinkle between his brows. He did not look sold on the idea.

Keith met Lance’s eyes, trying to communicate without words.

_Trust me._

Lance’s mouth twisted, frown deepening.

Slowly, just for the two of them, Keith brushed his fingers along Lance’s wrist. He could feel Lance's pulse, how it was racing with the rush of adrenaline. 

_Please, trust me._

Lance shivered. He bit his lip, contemplation dancing across his eyes. Never breaking eye contact, he wrapped his fingers around Keith’s wrist, giving it a light squeeze.

“Fine,” he said. “But one wrong move and Lotor loses an eye.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Keith said, squeezing Lance’s wrist in return before vaulting over the entrance rim.

 

***

 

Lotor stood like a soldier; wide stance, hands clasped behind his back. It reminded Keith of the way Shiro used to hold himself when he was on duty. Keith paused. Shiro - _Not now. You need to focus. Patience yields focus_. Keith straightened up and held his chin high. Having walked the last bit of distance to Lotor, Keith stopped just out of arm's reach. _Just in case_. Lotor appraised him. Keith did much the same, eyeing Lotor’s injured leg. But he found no wound, no blood, not even a bandage. Keith scrunched his brows in confusion. He’d seen the mess he’d made of Lotor’s leg, had seen the purple-black blood dribbling down from the gaping wound. Now, all that was left was a murky stain surrounding a small rip in Lotor’s pants, a sliver of unblemished, purple skin showing underneath. Keith couldn’t help but wonder where his dagger was as well, whether it had even been worth leaving his dagger behind. Was it still up on the Laith? Had Lotor thrown it overboard in his rage?

“Keith,” Lotor said, inclining his head.

“Lotor.”

The make-shift flag lay in a puddle at Lotor’s feet and on closer inspection Keith realised it was Lance’s white shirt, a purple stain decorating the collar. Keith smiled a little.

“I thought, perhaps, we could come to an agreement. Civilized like.”

_There’s something different about him_ , Keith thought. There weren’t any sultry smiles quirking at Lotor’s lips, nor fiendish intent in his eyes. He was stoic, calm. Imperial even. What had happened to the tempestuous brat Sendak had to lug around on a leash? Speaking of which... There was no sign of Sendak, nor of any of the other pure-blood Galra that might have survived the battle. Lotor was flanked on either side by the female Galra only. Acxa stood to Lotor’s right, her cold, calculating gaze directed at Keith. It made him shudder. She was flanked by the lizard-like Galra. Narti, if his memory served him. Her cat, however, was nowhere in sight. On Lotor’s other side were Ezor and Zethrid. They both looked a little too eager for Keith’s comfort like they were just waiting for an excuse to attack.

Keith maintained a steady gaze, blank-faced. He couldn’t afford to give anything away, especially with this new turn of events. It didn’t make sense. Why was Lotor out here making deals instead of Sendak?

“Shoot,” Keith said, lip twitching at the pun.

“I propose a bargain,” Lotor said, voice drawling, “Something I want, for something you want.”

Keith pretended to give this thought, rubbing his chin like Shiro always did. “Go on.”

“In exchange for the map, we will bring you one of your own party, unscathed.”

Keith scoffed. “Last I checked our party is intact. So, unless you have a magic wand stuck up your –”

“Takashi Shirogane.”

Keith’s heart skipped a beat.

“That’s not –”

“Your Captain, bless her heart, must have deprived you of the information of a cryopod aboard the Laith.”

_It’s a healing chamber… We had several installed in every battleship, including Alfor’s, The Laith._

“How do I know you're not lying?” Keith asked, wincing when he heard the tremor in his voice.

Lotor’s lip titled into a lop-sided smile. “Narti?” he called. The lizardess stepped forward and flicked open a panel on her arm guard. She pressed her hand to it and then, satisfied, she turned the panel around to face Keith, revealing a screen. And there was Shiro. Like Pidge’s projection, Shiro’s image appeared before him, as if he were there in the same room as him. It was at an odd angle as if someone were lying on the floor and looking up, but it was unmistakably Shiro. The strong jawline, the shock of white hair, the thick pink scar tissue. He was in a pod identical to Coran’s, standing neutral, almost relaxed, his eyes closed. There were no visible injuries from what Keith could see and his chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He was alive.

Keith felt himself take a step closer, wanting to see more, but Narti flipped the screen back, shutting it closed into her arm piece. She stepped back and returned to her soldier-stance, as if she were an automaton that had been deactivated.

“So,” Lotor said, dragging out the silence between them. “Do we have a deal?”

Keith’s heart pattered weakly in his chest.

Shiro was alive. He was alive and they have him and all he had to do was –

_They still think we have the map._

Keith ducked his head, thanking the stars for his thick curtain of hair. He breathed in, out. When he raised his head to meet Lotor’s gaze, he wore his best poker face.

“How do I know you won’t just kill us all once you receive the map?”

Lotor’s smile widened, baring a sharp incisor. “You’re smarter than you look, half-breed.”

_Half-breed?_

“How about this,” Lotor continued, “Give us the map and we will return your first mate to you, unharmed, as well as a longboat so you can all scamper back to where you belong.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Tempting but, no.”

Lotor’s eyes narrowed, the first break in his calm façade. “Are you sure that is your final answer?” he asked, voice lilting.

“As long as I live, you won’t see a single doubloon of my treasure,” Keith retorted, baring his own teeth in a snarl.

Lotor drew in a large breath. _I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in._ “That treasure is my birthright,” he said, slow and steady but his hands were fisted tightly in his coattails, knuckles turning white.

“Well try and get your damn treasure without my map,” Keith said, keeping his voice as even as possible.

The tension in the air was like thin ice. Neither one of them was willing to break away first in fear of falling.

Lotor's eyes darkened, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “Now listen here,” he said, voice low and demanding, “either I get that map tomorrow morning or you’ll be witness to your entire crew’s demise. I’ll set the cannons on them, make you watch as I pick them off one by one. I’ll start with your first mate and end with your little sharpshooter, saving you for last. Do you want that?”

Keith said nothing, gave away nothing.

Lotor tilted his head, his eyes dragging up and down Keith’s body. Keith stayed still, biting his tongue. <i>Don't take the bait.</i>

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, kit,” Lotor said, before turning on his heel and walking away. His cronies followed closely behind, although Ezor took the time to give Keith a sultry smirk. With a flick of her appendage, she sashayed away.

Keith waited until Lotor and his group were nothing more than smudges in the distance before turning his back and making his way to the Egg.

 

***

 

Keith didn’t know how else to say it.

“Shiro’s alive.”

Silence. Then, chaos.

Everyone reacted at the same time, yelling words and exclamations that Keith couldn’t decipher because there were too many voices at once. He could hear Pidge stringing cusses and _I knew it’s_ , whilst Hunk was asking if it was even possible. Lance looked as if he just had a heart attack, Coran appeared confused (which was to be expected) and Allura…

“You’re lying,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Everyone went still.

Keith shook his head. “I’m not.”

“Keith, Lotor is –”

“He showed me an image, a live projection. How I don’t know, but I saw him in one of your cryopods. Coran said the Laith had some.”

“Number three’s correct on that one,” Coran said, pinching his moustache between two fingers. “They’re in the underbelly of the ship, near the power generator where the Balmeran crystal is situated.”

“Balmeran crystal?” Hunk said. “Don’t you mean the photosynthesis generator? You know, where the sunlight from the solar panels is transformed into energy which, um, you know, runs the ship just like every other normal ship?”

Coran scoffed. “No, I mean the Balmeran crystal that the Princess uses to pilot the ship.”

Multiple emotions morphed across Hunk's face at once. Confusion, irritancy, consideration. Then his eyes widened, mouth going slack. The word eureka was practically etched across his face in bright golden letters.

"Is that why the sails are blue?" he said. "Because then that means the Liath's enginery is completely unique, nothing like our ships of today. How did you figure out something like that a hundred years ago? How is it done? Is there other Altean machinery like that? And then how do you convert the energy -"

"Hunk," Allura chastised. “Now is not the time to be talking about ship schematics.”

“But –” Hunk started.

Allura turned a look Keith could only describe as lethal to Hunk. His mouth clamped shut with a quiet _click_.

Keith cleared his throat before continuing. “Lotor is offering Shiro's safe return and a longboat in exchange for the map.”

“That’s it?” Lance said, coming up behind Keith, bayard still in hand. “We give him the map and he’ll let us walk?”

“That’s what he said,” Keith said with a shrug. He was still trying to wrap his mind around Lotor’s change in character, how such an insolent, whiny child had become such a diplomatic leader. It didn’t make any sense. Sendak was in charge. Sendak was the one who led the mutiny, who led the Galra crew. They had all listened to him, even Lotor had conceded to Sendak’s commands. So, why would Lotor be –

“You can’t.”

Keith flicked his attention to Coran. His face was grim, mouth set in a taut frown. “You can’t give Lotor the map.”

“But then he’ll let us go and, I mean, we can survive in a long boat, right? Right?” Hunk asked.

“Wrong,” Pidge said, cupping their chin in thought. “As soon as we turn our backs on Lotor, he’ll just shoot us down with the cannon blaster. No one is leaving this planet unless they are Galra and filthy rich.”

“Exactly,” Coran said. “Well put number four.”

“How long does the offer stand?” Allura asked. She was standing on her own now, although Keith could see that her hands were shaking with the strain.

“If they don’t get the map by tomorrow morning then we’ll be executed.”

“Well, I’m sure we could put up a fight, right guys?” Lance said, swinging his shotgun over his shoulder.

Pidge held up a hand and started ticking off a list, finger by finger, “We barely managed escaping the ship. We’re outnumbered three to one, Allura is still out of commission –”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Allura grunted.

“No, you’re not. You shouldn’t even be standing!” Pidge said.

“I think I’m perfectly capable of assessing my own health, doctor.”

“Listen, princess –”

“GUYS!”

Pidge startled and turned to face Hunk.

“Sorry,” he said, scrubbing a hand through his shaggy hair, “Just, arguing isn’t going help. We need a plan.”

“He’s right,” Keith said, "We need a plan."

"Well I've got nothing," Lance said. "Pidge?"

"Don't look at me," they said, raising their hands in surrender. "I'm just the humble astrophysicist."

Hunk snorted. Pidge glared at him. "What about you. You got an idea?" they said.

Hunk's shoulders drooped his bottom lip between his teeth. "Not really," he muttered.

Lance looked at Keith, his eyes searching. "Keith?" he said, gentle.

Keith fingered his bayard, looking for a distraction. He wanted the comfort of his dagger, a gift from his mother. He’d received it on his twelfth birthday, “As she intended,” his father had said with a sad smile. Keith knew next to nothing about his mother, besides a well-worn leather jacket and scribbled notes left in the margins of her books back at his childhood home. Keith hadn’t thought to take one when he left for the orphanage. He still wondered what had become of his house, of his belongings he hadn’t bothered to pack. Of his mother’s books and his father’s hoverbike which he’d promised would be Keith’s when he was old enough to drive.

Keith sighed, stepping around Lance and walking to the entrance. The two suns of Treasure Planet had finally sunk below the horizon, bringing a purple and blue twilight. Already, stars were beginning to wink into existence. If he dared lean out a little, Keith could just spot the Laith, a dark bird looming in the sky.

“Without the map, we’re dead,” Keith said. He looked to the forest grove beyond the Egg. Amongst the foliage was the orange glow of a fire where Lotor and the rest of his crew had made camp for the night, ensuring that if they so much as stepped foot outside of the Egg, they’d be shot mercilessly on the spot. “If we try to leave we’re dead. And if we stay here –”

“We’re dead?” Lance snarked. Hunk elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow!”

"Not helping, Lance."

Keith breathed another heavy sigh. Bracing his hands on the lip of the entrance, he leaned heavily forward, allowing his head to droop low. Exhaustion was setting deep into his bones, a yawn tickling at the back of his throat. His head felt cotton-full, clouded with want of sleep.

“Well, I think Keith could use a little alone time. Give him a chance to think,” Coran said, attempting to whisper and failing miserably. “So perhaps we should just slip out the back door?”

Keith’s head popped up. “Backdoor?” he asked, turning to see Coran’s retreating form.

“Oh yes!” Coran said over his shoulder. He stopped in front of a large semi-sphere in the center of the floor. “Number one?” Coran called, eyeing Hunk.

Hunk looked about, confused. He pointed to himself. “Me?”

“If you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand?” Coran said, straining as he tried to push the sphere by himself.

Hunk blinked in surprise then shrugged and joined Coran at the sphere.

Together the two pushed. A grating sound, almost like two stones rubbing together, echoed in the Egg as the sphere began to turn. A bright blue light appeared through a small opening on the other side. A trapdoor.

Keith and the rest of the group rushed to join Coran and Hunk in peering down the doorway. Keith saw Pidge’s jaw drop at the sight. Right below them was a walkway made of iron or steel or something (Keith couldn’t tell), and below that was a never-ending chasm of machinery. Lights flashed in all different colours, cogs ticking and whirring, pipes snaking all along the walls like ivy.

“Woah,” Hunk said.

“What is all this stuff?” Lance asked, trying to take a closer look only for Pidge to nudge him out of the way. They looked absolutely enthralled.

“You mean the miles of strange machinery that runs through the entire core of the planet? Well, to be honest, I’m not quite sure,” Coran said, scratching his head.

“What do you mean ‘not quite sure’? Aren’t you supposed to be the mechanic of this place?” Hunk asked, never taking his eyes off the machinery. He was leaning on the balls of his feet, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if he wanted to reach out touch the strange mechanisms.

“Well, yes, but I was more of a janitor than anything. Most of my knowledge about the planet went along with my memory chip.” Coran shrugged as if to say _What can an Altean do?_

Keith looked to Allura. She had made her own slow way to the trapdoor, wincing as she went. She stared down the opening, squinting against the bright light. Her face was flushed, nearly the exact same shade as the markings adorning her cheeks. Her shoulders were shaking from overexertion. Keith reached out, hoping to steady her. “Captain, this is our way out of here. If we can get to the ship –”

“Keith, I don’t think –” Allura gasped, her knees buckling out from under her. Lance raced to her side and caught her in his arms. He stumbled underneath her weight but managed to rearrange Allura so she was tucked safely to his chest.

“Hunk!” Lance yelped, “A little help?” Hunk rushed to his aid, helping to cradle Allura. She had gone limp, having fainted. Coran bent down as well, cradling her face in his hands as he inspected her. Worry was etched deep into his frown lines.

Keith grit his teeth. How were they supposed to do this? Allura was out of commission, Shiro was stuck in cryo-limbo and the only other adult was a slightly deranged amnesiac Altean.

_Patience yields focus._

Keith took a steadying breath, standing to his full height. “Coran,” he said, “is there a trapdoor near the pirate camp?”

Coran stopped his fussing, meeting Keith’s eye with slight confusion. “Yes, actually,” he said, “If my memory serves me there should be one directly adjacent to the Galra’s camp.”

“Perfect,” Keith said. “Tell Pidge the route, they’ve got that weird memory thing –”

“Eidetic memory,” Pidge said, adjusting their glasses with a smug smile.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay Child Genius, just, get the route.”

Coran stammered, his gaze flickering between Allura and Keith. “But, the princess –”

“Will stay here with you,” Keith assured him. 

Coran considered this a moment. He looked over Allura one more time before giving a brisk nod. He stood up, giving a sharp click of his heels. “Alright," he said, "Listen up number four because I’m only going to say this once.”

“Once is all I need,” Pidge said, sending Keith a salute before tuning into Coran’s directions.

“Hunk, your bayard is still in check, right?” Keith asked.

“Yep,” Hunk said, nodding at his hip where his bayard was strapped, seeing as his hands were full with Allura.

“Alright, when we get to the ship, I need you to find Shiro.”

“Hey!” Lance said, still holding the other half of Allura, “I didn’t see anyone put a captain’s hat on your head.”

“Lance, seriously?” Keith said, “Now’s not the time.”

“I know I just –” Lance huffed, looking down at Allura, at Coran and Pidge. He shared a look with a Hunk, who responded with a shrug. Lance shook his head, muttering something under his breath. “Fine,” he said with a sigh. “What do you need me to do?”

“Go with Hunk. You’ll be the best defence while he carries Shiro.”

Lance perked up. “Really?” he asked. He sounded shocked, almost disbelieving.

Keith sent him a sly smile. “Of course. Every team needs a sharpshooter.”

Lance grinned. “You got it.”

“Alright! You guys ready?” Pidge asked, shucking off their jacket and rolling up their sleeves.

Keith started towards the trapdoor but then stopped to search through his pants pockets.

“Hurry up, Mullet,” Lance said. He was already slinging one leg through the trapdoor, having settled Allura back onto her pillow with the help of Hunk. “We haven’t got all day!”

Keith finally found what he was looking for. Drawing out the spare piece of ribbon, he quickly tied up the hair at the nape of his neck into a small bun. He didn’t want it to get in the way in case of a fight.

“Alright,” Keith said, tying off the knot, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Told you Voltron plot was gonna come into play. So yeah, Shiro isn't dead, just in a cryopod coma. Sorry, not sorry, for the suspense ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ See you on Monday, and if you have any questions or queries, hmu in the comments or drop me a message on my Tumblr @subtlehysteria


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [insert Mission Impossible theme music]

“Ow! _Hunk_!”

“Sorry, sorry. I can’t see anything!”

“Yeah, no fuckin’ shit. But why don’t you try standing on someone else’s toes?”

“Hey, lay off Hunk, he said he was sorry!”

“WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP!”

Everyone went silent.

“Thank you,” Keith muttered, adjusting the grip on his bayard. He was starting to get used to the weight of it, although it still felt a little clunky compared to his dagger.

They’d been walking through the maze that was the inner workings of the planet for half an hour, Pidge directing them through snaking turns and up and down ladders. Half the time they couldn’t see where they were going, Rover’s little searchlight their only source of light.

More than once, Keith had gotten the stomach-sinking feeling that they were lost, only for Pidge to whisper “This way,” or “Make a left here.” But the feeling was still buzzing low in Keith’s belly. He’d always been a little afraid of the dark.

“Wait!” Pidge whispered. Keith came to a stand-still, Lance bumping into his back. They stood there, pressed against one another, so close, Keith could feel Lance’s breath on the exposed nape of his neck. He shrugged off the shiver down his spine. _Not now._

He could hear Pidge trudging forward, and then just as quickly they came back.

“If my memory serves me, which, it does, then we’re directly below the trapdoor at the campsite.” Keith could just imagine the smug look on their face.

“Alright, let’s get going.” Keith felt along the wall until he found a protruding structure. A rung of a ladder. He tucked his bayard away before grabbing on with both hands and hoisting himself up onto the first rung. Slowly, he climbed up until his head brushed a surface. Keith felt above his head until he found a rim and if he kept going then he should find –

“Gotchya.”.

Quietly, Keith pushed open the hatch of the trapdoor. The hinges creaked with old age and rust. He peered over the lip of the hole. Sure enough, there was Lotor’s group. They were all sleeping soundly, Zethrid yammering in her sleep while Lotor gave a few quiet snores.

Keith felt someone nudge his side. Lance’s head popped up next to his, their bodies touching from shoulder to toe as they both balanced on the thin ladder. Keith sent Lance a scowl which Lance ignored blatantly. Lance eyed the group instead, his thin brows furrowed as he took in the situation. He looked up at the sky. His eyes lit up as if an idea had come to him. He shared a look with Keith and started using strange hand gestures, pointing at Keith and then himself and then up in the middle of nowhere. Keith scrunched his nose up in confusion.

Was Lance having a seizure?

When Lance realised Keith wasn’t getting it, he sighed and gripped Keith’s chin between two fingers. He directed Keith’s face up until he spotted a longboat floating in the air. It was Red.

Keith turned back to find a smirking Lance.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Keith whispered.

Lance’s smile splintered. He glared at Keith. “I did!”

“No, you made weird hand gestures then looked at me expectantly.”

“Didn’t you learn anything at the Garrison?”

“If that’s what they were teaching you then I’m glad I left when I did.”

“You got expelled, remember?”

“I know that!”

“Guys!”

Lance and Keith stopped bickering long enough to look down. A Hunk-shaped shadow came into view. “Can we maybe step out of the dark scary tunnel filled with weird alien machinery please?”

“Maybe if you’d stopped stomping on my toes we would have gotten here sooner,” Pidge grumbled.

“I said I was sorry!”

 

***

 

After winding their way to Red, everyone managed to settle into the boat. Lance was the last to enter as he untied the rope holding the boat in place. Hunk gave him a hand up while Keith sat down at the controls. He kept the pace slow, only using the booster once they well out of ear shot.

Once they were close enough to the ship, Lance tied the longboat down and jumped aboard, helping the rest of them onto the ship. Keith put the longboat in neutral before taking Lance’s hand and leaping over the bannister. He may or may not have held Lance’s hand a little longer than necessary, but if Lance noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Keith turned his attention to the rest of the group. “Alright, in order for this to work we need to stay quiet,” he said just as Hunk managed to knock over Mrs. Bucket.

“Hunk!”

“Sorry, sorry. Sea legs,” he said.

Lance rolled his eyes before addressing Keith in a stage whisper. “What’s the plan?”

“Pidge is going to go disable the laser cannons while you and Hunk find Shiro and bring him to the longboat. I’ll get the map with Rover.”

“Hey, how come you get Rover!” Lance squawked.

Keith clapped his hand over Lance’s mouth. “Because Rover has the scanner and can locate the map for me.”

Lance nodded. “Hokeh khen hyuu hlet gho nhow?”

“What?” Keith asked.

Lance pried Keith’s hand off his mouth. “I said, can you let go now?”

“Can you guys flirt later? We actually have a mission to accomplish,” Pidge said, although their lips were quirking.

“We weren’t flirting!” Lance and Keith said in unison.

Pidge raised a quizzical brow. “Let’s say we meet at the longboat in an hour tops?”

They all nodded in agreement, splitting off onto their different routes. Hunk and Lance disappeared into the belly of the ship, following Coran’s instructions towards the cryopod where Shiro was being held. Pidge followed them then made a sharp turn right towards the control room. Keith started in the opposite direction, heading towards the longboats.

 

***

 

“Where are you, where are you, where – aha!”

Pidge had been opening and closing doors in succession in search of the control room for a solid five minutes before they finally happened upon it. It was conveniently marked CONTROL ROOM in big bold letters.

“Of course,” they muttered, pushing the door open with a roll of their eyes. They closed it behind them, allowing just a slither of light to peep through. They needed to keep an ear open, just in case. None of them had seen Sendak since their escape, and while Hunk had the high hopes that Sendak had been caught in the cross-fire, Pidge wasn’t as optimistic. Paranoia, at the right capacity, was key to one’s survival after all.

The control box took up a decent amount of the wall, although the architect failed to take Pidge’s height into consideration. They had always been short in stature and had hoped that the painfully awkward stages of puberty would bless them with some height. Alas, it was not meant to be. They had to go on their tiptoes just to reach the damn thing. With a frustrated huff, they dragged an empty crate over to use as a step ladder. (If anyone saw them, they’d threaten them into silence. No way were they going to be caught using a fucking step ladder.)

Pidge opened the panel, only a little disappointed that they didn’t have to break through a set of locks. Although once they saw the contents, they understood.

It was a bird’s nest of wires, a mess of blues, greens and reds intertwined enough to make Pidge’s head hurt. It didn’t help that the labels below each input were in a language that Pidge had never seen before, let alone could comprehend.

“Fuck.”

 

***

 

“Is it me, or are we lost?”

Lance and Hunk were standing at a fork way that looked kinda familiar but also not.

“No way,” Lance said, waving off Hunk’s worry. He had his bayard in hand, gripped casually as if it were a drink rather than some weird Altean weapon type thing. Hunk’s was strapped at his side. He kept reaching for it, making sure it was there just in case. Although, he might not need it, seeing as the ship was deserted. At least, it seemed like it from where they were standing which was…

Lance looked down each dimly lit hallway, trying to decipher between the two. His smile slowly faded away. Uncertainty danced across his eyes.

_Okay, definitely lost._

“Can you go over what Coran said again?” Lance asked, keeping up the nonchalant act, albeit with a wobble to his words.

Hunk sighed. He loved Lance like a brother, loved his antics and abundance of energy but sometimes he wished Lance could just own up to what he was really feeling, instead of hiding behind a smile. Especially now when they were in a maybe-deserted ship, searching for a mystical pod that could suspend human life for over a hundred years which could or could not possibly be holding their first mate. And Hunk wasn’t scared, per say. Okay, he was a little scared but not because it was dark or because they could be attacked any minute or – No, no, those things were on the list but… Hunk was mostly scared because he didn’t know where they were going. He didn’t like not knowing things. Not just because he was, admittedly, nosey but because… well, he was just that kind of person. He liked breaking down problems and facts and rearranging them in a way that he could understand, even if it didn’t make sense to other people, which, usually, it didn’t. Like Coran’s directions. They were just plain confusing. Hunk had to ask the Altean to repeat himself three times and even then, it was still a blur. So, he did what any rational human being would do. He made a rhyme out of it.

“Okay, so when you’re on the boat take a left at the moat –”

“We don’t have a moat?” Lance said, sending Hunk a questioning look.

Hunk placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Lance, I know. It’s just part of the rhyme.”

“Oh, okay,” Lance said, although there was still some uncertainty in his eyes. “Rhyme away then.”

Hunk retracted his arm, took a deep breath, and started again, this time in his head. He wasn’t gonna risk looking stupid in front of Lance. He’d never hear the end of it, especially if Pidge got a whiff of it.

 _When you’re on the boat_  
take a left at the moat  
that’s where you must begin  
go straight down the stairs  
don’t go unawares  
or you might be shot in the shin  
take a left then a right  
deep breaths, you’re alright  
continue down the hall  
then it’s right, straight left  
keep going to the left  
there’s a left at the fork after all –

“Left!” Hunk exclaimed.

Lance clamped a hand over Hunk’s mouth, whispering a harsh “SHHH!”

“Swerry,” Hunk said, peeling Lance’s hand off. “It’s a left.”

“Are you sure?” Lance asked, taking another look at the two identical hallways.

“Positive,” Hunk said, shimmying past Lance and starting down the left hallway. Lance followed although he was muttering under his breath. Hunk shrugged it off. If his rhyme was right, which, he was pretty certain it was, then they just needed to keep going straight until –

“Bingo.”

Before them was a door with a glass porthole, but it was what was inside that made Hunk grin like an idiot.

 _Take a look through the glass_  
and you’ll bet your ass  
you’ve reached your goal, congrats!

Hunk swung the door open quietly, stepping through the doorway. Lance was behind him, keeping his back to Hunk’s so he could watch the hallway.

“Hunk, buddy, are you sure we’re in the right spot? I don’t see any pods.”

Hunk walked further into the room, running through Coran’s instructions.

_“The room dips down by two steps in a sort of circular structure,” Coran said, drawing a large circle with his finger. “The pods will be on the outer ring.”_

Hunk looked down and sure enough, there were the two steps, moulded out of the strange white-silver wood the rest of the ship was made of. He stayed on top, walking around the outer edge of the circle.

_“There are four pods on each ship. It was mandatory, back in the day. So, there will be four small spherical indents in the floor. That’s where each pod is contained.”_

Hunk felt around with his foot, relying on touch rather than sight. That’s when he felt a slight dip in the floor. Hunk knelt down, running his hands around a spherical rim.

_“Next to each pod is a small button. All you have to do is press it and voila! The pod will appear!”_

He found the button.

“Lance,” he said, catching his friend’s eye over his shoulder, “We are most definitely in the right spot.”

“Uh, you sure about that? Just looks like an empty room, if I’m being honest.” Lance was standing ready at the door, bayard clutched tightly now. All nonchalance was gone.

“Oh, trust me,” Hunk said, a smug grin sent Lance’s way, “It’s anything but.”

He pushed the button.

There was a soft hiss of air and then, the hatch slid down and out of sight. A long pillar ascended out of the space. Hunk stood back, placing his hands on his hips, puffing his chest with pride. He’d done it, he’d actually done it. The rhyme had worked, they hadn’t been attacked and now they had Shiro and –

“Uh, Hunk?”

Hunk turned to Lance who was now sporting his own smug smile. “You might wanna check that the pod actually contains a Shiro before doing your happy dance.”

Hunk spun around to find an empty pod; neon-blue light shone blindingly in his face. He couldn’t help but feel like it was mocking him.

Hunk’s shoulders drooped. Great, the one time he gets to show off and he manages to choose the wrong pod. Stupid.

With a huff, and pointedly ignoring Lance, Hunk walked around the perimeter, feeling for each indent and pressing the button in hopes of a Shiro-shaped figure to appear. The second pod came up empty. So did the third.

Hunk was starting to worry a little now. There was only one pod left, and if Shiro wasn’t in there then…

With bated breath, Hunk pressed the final button. He stood back, tapping his foot impatiently as the pod took its sweet time to ascend.

It wasn’t like the others. Not just in shape and height, but in that it also contained a very familiar-looking, broad-shouldered, white-tufted Shiro.

Hunk could feel his face splitting from how big his grin was.

Before he could rejoice, however, the glass panel of the pod dissolved and caused Shiro to topple forward. Hunk ran to his aid, catching him in the nick of time.

Shiro let out a small grunt at the impact which Hunk took as a sign that yes, Shiro was alive, he was here, in Hunk’s arms and not swirling around in a black hole somewhere. They’d found him.

“Lance!”

Lance turned and practically squealed when he saw who Hunk was carrying.

“Holy shit! You found him!” Lance ran to them, his post at the door forgotten, and slammed into Hunk, giving him a fierce hug.

“You’re brilliant, I hope you know that.”

“Well, I mean, it was nothing, I guess,” Hunk said, smiling down at Lance.

Lance sent him a warm smile in return. “No, it wasn’t.”

Hunk cleared his throat, only a little embarrassed at his friend’s gushing. “Thanks, man.” Lance tightened his hold on Hunk, giving him another squeeze.

“Lance,” Hunk said with a chuckle, “as much as I love your hugs, which, I do, because they’re awesome, I’ve kinda got Shiro in my arms and he’s a lot heavier than he looks.”

Lance jumped back. “Shit, sorry!”

Hunk bent down, grabbing Shiro firmly behind the thighs. With a soft _hup_ , Shiro was draped over Hunk’s shoulder in a fireman’s hold. Hunk made sure his grip was secure before nodding at Lance.

“It’s fine. Now let’s get the heck off this ship.”

Lance grinned before starting for the doorway, his bayard forming his shotgun along the way.

“Let’s.”

 

***

 

Keith didn’t hesitate when he started towards the long boats. He remembered roughly the route Allura had used during their escape and, with perhaps a few misguided turns here and there, finally came upon a battered doorway with molten metal all along the frame, as if it had been blasted from the inside.

He’d arrived.

“Alright Rover,” Keith said, addressing the little automaton that was hovering at his side, “Do your thing.”

Rover made a noise, as if in affirmation, before something projected from his eye piece. It was a schematic of the longboat bay. Two dots were positioned at a doorway, one red, the other green. A third dot was placed where Keith and Lotor had had their little skirmish.

“Come on,” Keith said, starting towards Blue’s docking bay. Rover followed, the schematic shining in front of him like a treasure map.

 _A treasure map to find a treasure map,_ Keith thought. What were the odds?

Keith slowed down as they neared Blue’s dock. He took another look at Rover’s schematic before starting his search. He checked behind spare boxes and crates, walked around the pillars that held up the roof, and even got on his hands and knees to check underneath the equipment. He came up with nothing.

He let out a frustrated grunt and turned back to Rover only to find thin air.

_Not again._

“Rover? Rover, come on, we don’t have time for games.”

There was no response. Keith grit his teeth. “Rover, I’m counting to three and if you don’t come out I’m going to pull you apart cog by cog, I swear it!”

Still no response.

Keith hung his head. _I can’t believe I’m doing this._

Keith started counting, keeping an eye out for Rover while he was at it.

“One.”

Nothing.

“Two.”

Still nothing.

“Rover, don’t let me get to three. Come out now, and no one gets hurt.”

Nothing.

“Three.”

A tinny _ding_ rung through the empty docking bay. Keith froze. He waited and just when he started thinking he’d made it up it came again. _Ding._

Keith started towards the noise, looking left and right. He neared the pile of crates but when he stepped up to them, the ding became soft, barely audible. Keith stepped away from them, retracing his steps back. The ding started to become louder again.

_Is it? –_

Keith took a step forward. The ding rung loud and clear. He took a several steps back and the ding went soft again.

Rover was playing hot or cold.

With a grin, Keith started forward again. It took a little bit of trail and error but soon enough, following Rover’s _dings_ and _whirrs_ , Keith finally found the automaton. He was nestled in a pile of rope far off near the end of the dock and with him was the map.

Keith grinned down at the automaton.

“You could have just said.”

Rover gave a little a noise in lieu of a shrug before shooting up, once more hovering at Keith’s side. Keith bent down and retrieved the map, pocketing it. Now all he had to do was meet up with the rest of the group back at the boat and then they could hightail it out of –

A loud noise bombarded Keith’s eardrums. He clutched at his ears, trying to drown out the sirens. Rover was vibrating.

“What is that?” Keith yelled to no one in particular.

Rover faced Keith and created another projection, this time of Pidge’s face.

_Dammit Pidge._

After an excruciating thirty seconds, the sirens finally switched off, much to Keith’s relief and irritation. Pidge might as well have shouted their location at the top of the crow’s nest.

“Come on,” Keith said, sprinting for the doorway. Rover whizzed past him, leading the way. Pidge had just halved their time, maybe even twice over, because of their little stunt. And if any crew members were still on the ship, which was a major possibility, it was definitive that they’d be awake and alert by now.

Keith swung around a corner, nearly knocking into the wall, before continuing his sprint to Red. Hopefully, if everyone was on schedule, then Hunk and Lance should have found Shiro by now and Pidge… Keith stopped, then back peddled and took a left. He didn’t know shit about wires and plugs but if it meant stopping Pidge from doing anything stupid, then he’d try.

He’d just past the stairway to the main deck, taking a quick right when something blocked his path. A big, hulking, purple something.

“So,” Sendak said, sneering down at Keith, “We meet again.”

 

***

 

“Hunk, I hate to be that guy but could you please hurry?”

Hunk grunted. He was currently balancing Shiro over his shoulder, jogging down hallways that all looked the same, whilst trying to remember his rhyme backwards so they could get back to the longboat. Suffice to say, it wasn’t an easy task, especially when Lance kept chirping at him.

“Why don’t you try carrying a full-grown Shiro and then we can see who needs to hurry?” Hunk grumbled. He grabbed Lance by the collar and pushed him to the left. “It’s left, buddy.”

“Thanks,” Lance said before he continued to jog down the hall. Their shoes clunked against the metal grating at their feet, causing hollow echoes to bounce against the walls. It only added to the confusion.

“Is it me or is the ship suspiciously absent of Galra?” Hunk said.

Lance shrugged. “Hey, the fewer aliens I have to shoot at, the better.”

“Yeah, Lance? I’m not complaining, but rather voicing my concern that –”

Lance came to a stop, looked to Hunk for direction, then smiled when, with a sigh, Hunk indicated right.

“Hunk, buddy, relax. Enjoy the fact that we’re not being attacked right now.”

Hunk shook his head in frustration. “No, Lance, I’m just saying that we should be on our guard. I’m getting a creepy vibe.”

Lance waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. We’re nearly there anyway, and the hard part’s over. From here on in, it’s smooth sail–”

_EEEEEK EEEEEK EEEEEK EEEEEK EEEEEK_

Hunk clutched at his ears, nearly losing his grip on Shiro in the process. Lance did the same, plugging his fingers into his ears, his face scrunching in discomfort.

“Can we panic now?!” Hunk yelled, trying to be heard over the blaring sirens.

Lance un-scrunched his face. He nodded frantically. “Okay, maybe we can panic a little.”

 

***

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Pidge scrambled with the plug, hands shaking as the blaring of the sirens penetrated their eardrums. They felt like they were being smashed between two giant gongs.

Finally, after thirty long seconds of fumbling, they managed to plug the wire back into its original input, shutting off the sirens.

The blew a huge sigh of relief which was swiftly followed by a feeling of dread. Even though the ship seemed relatively empty, Pidge could still have notified any crew members here that they were in fact aboard the ship.

They needed to be smart with their next choice but also fast enough so they could hightail it out of there.

Pidge looked back to the panel, squinting in another attempt to read the strange labels, but that only resulted in a headache. Pidge pouted. They were supposed to be good at this. This was their thing! Maybe if they had Rover, he could have helped to decipher the symbols, but he was currently with Keith and they didn’t have that kind of time on their hands, not now after their slip up with the sirens.

Pidge’s hand hovered over the panel, scanning one irritating blue squiggle from the next until they settled on one that looked sort of like a pistol.

They shrugged. Close enough.

They crossed their fingers as they unplugged the wire.

 

***

 

Keith bared his teeth. “Sendak,” he snarled.

The Galran chuckled, his cybernetic eye glinting in the low light. He bared his own teeth, showing off impressive incisors that even a lion would be afraid of.

“Half-breed,” he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Why do you lot keep calling me that?” Keith said. Talking would buy him and the rest of the team some time, but he also couldn’t help the insatiable curiosity curling at the back of his mind.

“Because that is what you are,” Sendak said, taking a step forward. Keith stood his ground.

“Last I checked I don’t have those cute little cat ears.”

Sendak sneered, his ears twitching in irritation. Keith smirked.

“You are a runt, a blemish on the name of Galra!”

Keith’s mouth went slack. “What –” Sendak didn’t wait for Keith to finish his thought. He clenched his fists, his cybernetic arm glowing purple at the seam. He charged, swinging back his fist.

Keith unsheathed his bayard, stepping back into a defensive pose. He was just about to swipe his sword, cut Sendak short in his tracks, when the lights went off, plummeting them both into darkness.

 

***

 

Pidge groaned. “Shit.”

 

***

 

“Lance!”

“I’m here buddy!”

Lance reached out until he felt Hunk’s hand clutch his own. It was warm, Hunk’s palms rough with calluses. He could still feel the burn scar on Hunk’s pinkie finger from the time Hunk tried to make pancakes from scratch. It was the first and last time Hunk had ever attempted to recreate pancakes with alien ingredients.

The sirens had switched off a while ago, giving Hunk and Lance more than enough motivation to _move it._ Hunk had directed them the entire way, grabbing Lance by the collar every time he started down the wrong hall. Lance silently thanked him every time. He would never have been able to find his way to Shiro on his own, let alone carry the man and find his way back to the longboat as well. Hunk was his support system, just like how Lance was his, keeping his gun at the ready in case of any perpetrators. Although, he wasn’t really of much help when they _couldn’t see a damn thing._

“We can’t just stand here,” Lance said, squinting in the dark to try and make out any sign of a wall, a doorway, anything.

“Well, we can’t really move without knocking into something either!” Hunk said, his voice trembling a little.

Lance gave his friend’s hand a supportive squeeze. “Don’t worry, bud. We’ll figure it out.” And as if by magic, the lights came back on.

“Alright!” Lance exclaimed, sending Hunk a grin, “Let’s go!”

“Uh, Lance?”

Lance swivelled around to face his friend fully. Hunk was biting his lip, adjusting his weight from one foot to the other. He looked about ready to bolt in the opposite direction, Shiro and all.

“What’s up, buddy?” Lance asked.

Hunk pointed over Lance’s shoulder. Lance turned around but saw nothing.

“Down,” Hunk whispered.

Hesitantly, Lance turned his gaze downwards. He was met with bright yellow eyes and a swishing tail. It was Kova, Narti’s pet cat… thing. He looked extremely bored with this entire situation, his gaze heavy-lidded.

Kova was constantly hanging around Narti, the reptilian Galra woman. Those two were as thick as thieves, so if Kova was here then…

“Hunk,” Lance whispered, his eyes never leaving Kova’s, “I think we best skedaddle.”

“Yep, yeah, totally agree, we should definitely do that, just one problem though –  
”

Kova was standing between them and their exit.

Lance put on a friendly smile, slowly bending down until he was level with Kova. He stuck his hand out, crooking his finger. “Good kitty, nice kitty.”

Kova looked between Lance’s outstretched hand and his face, his own remaining impassive. His whisker twitched. He hissed.

“Oh shit.”

Kova pounced, swiping his paw and managing to nick Lance on the chin. Lance jumped back. “Bad kitty, very bad kitty!”

Kova hissed, his tail swishing to and fro as he prepared for another attack.

Lance brought up his gun, taking aim.

“Lance…” Hunk started.

“I know, Hunk!” Lance said, trying to keep his voice steady. He’d shot down Galra before during their escape, had watched as their lifeless bodies dropped to the surface of Treasure Planet. But that was in the heat of battle, where shots rang true, blocking out the screaming and the dull _thunk_ of laser blasts hitting flesh and bone. Here, it was just him and Kova, an animal, one small animal between him and the longboat.

He took a deep breath, finger settling on the trigger.

Kova pounced, leaping up and heading straight for Lance’s face. At the last second, Lance turned his gun and used it as a shield, stopping Kova mere millimeters away from his face. Lance shook his gun, trying to fling the cat off, but Kova clung on tightly, hissing and blindly swiping at Lance the more he tried to shake him off.

“Hunk!” Lance yelled. He stepped to the side, making space for his friend. “Go!”  
“What! No, Lance, I can’t –”

“Go! Take care of Shiro, I’ll catch up!”

Hunk’s brows furrowed with concern. “Lance, you don’t –”

“I said go!” Lance screamed. Hunk looked taken aback but nodded. He turned on the spot and started down the hallway, boots clanging against the grating until Lance could no longer hear him.

Okay, one problem solved, now he just had to get rid of the pest.

Kova spat at Lance, managing to scratch him across the cheek in their struggle. Lance gritted his teeth against the pain. Kova was refusing to let go, and Lance couldn’t shoot the damn thing while he was still clinging to his gun, which left him only one other option.

“Sorry,” Lance grunted before ramming his gun, and Kova, against the wall. Kova shrieked on impact but finally, let go of Lance’s gun. The cat dropped to the ground, landing on all four paws, although he looked a little shaken. Lance stepped away and sprinted down the hall, refusing to look back as he whispered _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,_ over and over again under his breath.

 

***

 

When the lights came back on, Rover was gone. And so was Sendak.

Keith looked about frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of purple, maybe a shot of neon yellow. Nothing. He couldn’t find Sendak. He couldn’t find Sendak. He could attack at any time and Keith wasn’t prepared and –

_Patience yields focus._

Keith took a deep breath, then another, and another. He widened his stance, tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

_Patience yields focus, patience yields focus, patience yields focus, patience –_

There.

Keith drove his swords upwards, just missing Sendak as he swung from one pipe to the next. The Galran snarled down at Keith from his perch, throwing back his cyber arm before sending a punch Keith’s way. Keith ducked, a whoosh of air just passing his cheek as Sendak’s fist went flying down the hall.

Keith gaped, following the long thin trail of electric purple all the way back to a grinning Sendak. “Shiro is not the only one with an upgrade,” he said, his smile turning sinister, cyber eye narrowing until it was only a small, angry red dot. Keith turned, about to duck once again but was too late. Sendak’s arm came flying back, back-handing Keith so hard he flew into the opposite wall. He crumpled under the force, a grunt escaping his chest.

Get up. He needed to _get up._

Keith shot to his feet, just missing another flying fist as he sprinted blindly down the hall.

He chucked barrels and boxes behind him, trying to block Sendak’s path. Sendak evaded them easily, leaping over them like hurdles. Keith risked a look over his shoulder. That was his mistake. Sendak flung his arm towards Keith, gripping tightly onto his shoulder and forcing him to the ground with a hard _thunk._ His bayard went flying to the side, the sword retracting into the handle. It was well out of reach.

Keith gasped, the wind having been knocked out of him. Sendak’s grip tightened, kept him pinned to the ground. Keith kicked and struggled but it was no use. He was trapped, pinned like a butterfly in a display case. Sendak chuckled, low and sinister, as he slowly sauntered over.

“Did you honestly think a runt like yourself could outrun me?” He bent down, coming face to face with Keith. His breath was hot and sticky, and Keith had to fight the urge to retch at the smell.

“You are nothing. A scrap of waste that should have been disposed of years ago. Just like your mother.”

Keith froze, could feel his lungs shutting down, his throat constricting. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t anything because _what had Sendak done to his mother._

“You fucking bastard!” Keith yelled, struggling even more, even as his breath escaped him, even as he started to see spots from the lack of oxygen.

“Come, come. Don’t you want to know what happened to her? Why she died the way she did? Surely your father told you something about her, _half-breed._ ”

Keith swallowed thickly, gasping for air that was just out of reach. There was a pounding in his brain, a low base thumping a tattoo against his pulse.

 _He’s lying,_ Keith thought desperately. _He has to be._

Keith’s vision went black, then white, then black again as he tried to stay conscious. He needed to get out of here, he needed –

Suddenly, Sendak’s weight was lifted off his chest, allowing Keith access to fresh gulps of air. But then he started floating off the ground, arms flaying about as he tried to catch his balance.

The artificial gravity had been turned off.

Sendak made a swipe for Keith, propelling himself closer so that they were almost face to face. Keith used the opportunity, and, with all his might, kicked Sendak in the solar plexus, causing him to collide with the wooden grating above. The wood broke on impact, causing both Sendak and Keith to float up and out above deck.

Sendak managed to grab onto a stray rope from the main mast but Keith wasn’t as lucky. He kept floating up, up, up, his back hitting the crow’s nest and causing him to spin wildly out of control. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith spotted the flag, now a deep purple instead of the original blue and pink. The Galra must have changed it when they took over the ship. It didn’t matter much now, just that it gave Keith something to grab onto. He clutched it tightly, holding on for dear life as he felt his body being tugged up towards the sky. At this height, even if Pidge did manage to switch on the artificial gravity again, they were too high up in the atmosphere to be pulled back to the ship. If Keith let go now, there was no coming back.

“Runt!”

Keith looked down to find Sendak smiling menacingly up at him. He had Keith’s bayard in hand. It had formed into a short sword, the hilt glinting in the moonlight.

“Say hello to your dear mama for me!” he said before he started hacking at the drawstring of the flag.

Keith caught on quick enough and scrambled down the flag until he was clutching the post. Sendak snarled in frustration and leapt. He let go of Keith’s bayard in the process, allowing it to float directly into Keith’s hand. Sendak reached for Keith but had pushed too far, causing himself to fly right past Keith and become entangled in the flag instead. The drawstring snapped, and Sendak began floating away, away from the mainmast, away from Keith, away from the notion of ever coming back. Keith started laughing. He’d done it. He’d done it. He’d done –

A flash of purple, then a large black claw attached itself to the post, barely missing Keith’s head. Sendak was floating at the other end of his tether, like a purple balloon caught in the wind.

Keith didn’t think twice about it. He transformed his bayard into his sword once more and with a mighty swing, cut off Sendak’s connection from his cyber arm.

“NOOOO!” Sendak screamed. He flew up, up, up into the atmosphere until he was out of sight, nothing more than a purple speck amongst the stars.

Just as he began to breathe a sigh of relief, gravity shifted, and suddenly Keith found himself sprawled in the crow’s nest.

_Thank the stars._

Keith sat up slowly, head spinning, hands shaking from all the left-over adrenaline. He let out a great deep gust of air, clutching at his chest. Patting himself down, he checked that he was still intact then, satisfied, Keith retracted his sword and hung his bayard on his belt. He used the mast to help himself onto his feet. He didn’t trust his legs just yet.

“Keith!”

Keith stumbled to the railing and peered down at the deck. Lance was dancing about at the foot of the mast, waving his arms. Keith followed to where Lance was pointing and spotted Hunk with a large, Shiro-shaped lump on his shoulder. Keith laughed giddily despite the fact that he felt like he was about to throw up.

“We found him!” Lance yelled, still dancing and flailing his arms.

“I can see that!” Keith yelled back.

“Is everyone okay?!”

Keith turned his attention to the stairway where a smudge of green appeared, a familiar triangle floating by its side.

_So that’s where Rover went. Little bastard._

“PIDGE!” Keith yelled, putting all his frustration and worry into that one name. “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?”

“Nice to see you too!” Pidge said, waving up at Keith.

“You almost got us killed!” Lance said, storming up to Pidge.

“Hey! You try to decipher a century-old language whilst navigating through millions of, very poorly wired, might I add, plugs!”

“At least you didn’t get attacked by a rabid alien cat!” Hunk said, adjusting his grip on Shiro.

“Kova?”

Hunk nodded.

“What’s Kova doing on the ship without Narti?” Pidge asked.

“A good question which I don’t particularly want to know the answer to,” Hunk said, “so can we please go before we get attacked by some actual Galra?”  
“Too late,” Keith said. While the other three had been arguing by the stairwell, Keith had swung down from the crow’s nest using a spare reel of rope, landing a little wobbly on his feet. He took his time walking up to them, trying not to show how shaken up he really was.

“I just fought with Sendak.”

Lance ran to Keith, shoving Keith behind him as he cocked his shotgun. “Where is he? Is he near here? Did he hurt you?”

“I may or not have sent him flying into space,” Keith said, avoiding eye contact. He was taken aback by Lance’s last question, and with the added stress of his battle, he didn’t know how long he would last before his knees would buckle.

“You what?!” Lance said, turning a wide-eyed look at Keith.

“Well, it was all thanks to Pidge’s little gravity stunt,” Keith grumbled.

“I told you! Indecipherable language, nest of tangled wires?!” Pidge said, their cheeks beginning to burn bright red.

“Uh, rabid cat!” Hunk said in return.

“Guys!” Lance yelled, catching everyone’s attention. “Relax,” he said, putting his bayard away, although he still stood in front of Keith, a human shield. “It’s done. We’ve all had a few mishaps but we’re here now and everyone’s safe and that’s what matters.”

Hunk’s shoulders slumped, losing all their tension. Pidge still looked ruffled, but their once red cheeks were now fading into a dull pink. Even Keith felt a little steadier on his feet.

“He’s right,” Keith said, sending Lance a look before turning back to Pidge. “Did you manage to disable the cannons?”

“Well, yes and no.”

“Pidge?”

“After all my… miscalculations, I kinda got frustrated and just swiped by bayard through the control panel. After making sure the artificial gravity was back on, of course.”

Everyone stared at them with wide open gazes. Pidge waved them off. “Rover helped me determine more or less where the weaponry inputs were, so I cut them all off. It just saved time.” They shrugged. “Whatever, you know?”

Not really, but, Keith wasn’t going to complain. His head was still spinning and everyone looked worse for wear, including Shiro, who was moaning quietly under his breath from his perch on Hunk’s shoulder.

“Okay, let’s just get back to Red before anything else happens.”

Pidge nodded. “Agreed.”

“Definitely,” Lance said.

“Finally!” Hunk exclaimed.

After settling Shiro between Hunk and Pidge, Keith and Lance untied the boat and hopped aboard.

Lance started towards Hunk but Keith stopped him.

“Uh, Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you, maybe, um, take us back? I don’t really trust my head right now.” _I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Sendak knew my mom and, oh, yeah, I might also be part Galra._

Lance gave a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, man. No problem.”

Keith sat down, sighing heavily as he allowed himself to finally relax, or, at least, as much as he could with all this new information whizzing about in his head. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight.

“Alright, everybody,” Lance said, settled behind the controls. “Fasten your lifelines and hold on tight.”

“Uh, Lance,” Hunk said, “there are no lifelines – Lance!”

Lance put the boat into full thruster mode, causing Keith to fall off his seat and onto the bed of the boat. Lance crowed with laughter the whole ride back.

 

***

 

They didn’t bother returning the boat to Lotor, instead of parking it in front of the Egg. Pidge made sure to secure the boat while Hunk and Lance manoeuvred Shiro onto a pile of cushions. Keith ran ahead, clutching the map in his hand.

“Captain! Coran! We got it! We got the map!”

A figure emerged from the shadows and Keith ran to it, eagerly offering up the map. He expected to see Coran’s funny moustache or Allura’s bright pink-and-blue eyes. Instead, a purple, clawed hand emerged, snatching the map from him. Another grabbed his wrist before Keith could make a run for it.

“Why thank you,” Lotor purred, stepping fully into the moonlight. Keith spun around, about to warn Lance when he saw the rest of Lotor’s crew. Pidge was about to brandish their bayard when Ezor materialized out of thin air and tackled them to the ground. She threw Pidge’s bayard to the side as she wrapped herself around Pidge, holding them tight in a contortionist’s hold. Rover appeared at their side, about to attack when a blast rang through the empty air. Rover fell to the ground in a splatter of cogs and sparks. “No!” Pidge screamed, voice raw. They reached for Rover but Ezor held them back, wagging a finger in their face. “Uh-uh.”

Zethrid had managed to wrangle both Hunk and Lance into a headlock, keeping them tucked snugly under either arm. They both struggled, but Zethrid only laughed at their failed attempts at escape.

Keith caught movement in the corner of his eye and saw Allura and Coran bundled together in tight knots and thick ropes, both gagged with white bits of material that looked very much like Lance’s shirt. Acxa was cocking a pistol in their general direction, looking passive as ever. The barrel was still smoking from its last fatal shot. Keith was about to speak to them, to say sorry, say anything, when something jumped on his shoulder. He jerked, trying to shove it off, but it avoided his advances. It swiftly leapt to the floor and scampered towards Narti, weaving between her legs as she tossed Shiro into the center of their little circle. Kova purred as Narti picked him up and gave him a few soft strokes. He hissed in Lance’s direction, flicking his tail which now had a very prominent kink in it. Lance hissed back.

A thin finger guided Keith’s chin up and away, turning his attention back to Lotor. “Welcome to the party,” Lotor said, teeth glistening in the moonlight. “So glad you could join us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh duh duh duuuuuh.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buried treasure awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: blood and violence are pretty heavy in this chapter. If you feel uncomfortable with that sort of thing hmu in the comments or drop me a message on my Tumblr (@subtlehysteria) and I'll give you a summary of the chapter so you don't miss out x
> 
> Also just a little side-note: I started writing this even before season 4 came out, and considering that season 5 is coming out tomorrow (EEEEE!!!) and we'll maybe (hopefully) see the true side of Lotor, he may appear out of character from here on in ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“So glad you could join our little party.”

Keith snarled. He tried to wrench out of Lotor’s grasp but Lotor had both his wrists pinned in one hand, grip tight and unrelenting. With his free hand, Lotor pinched Keith’s chin between two fingers, making sure Keith’s attention didn’t stray.

In the background, Keith could hear Pidge’s muffled sobs. He wanted to go to them, comfort them, but Lotor did not will it.

“How did you get –” Keith started.

Lotor gave Keith a look.

_Of course, idiot._

“The trapdoor,” Keith said dumbly. They did work both ways after all.

“Clever boy,” Lotor said. He tapped his finger against Keith’s cheekbone, as if in thought. “If it weren’t for Kova, we would have slept the whole night through without a care.”

Kova gave a quiet _mieu_ in response. Narti tickled him under the chin, resulting in a low rumble of purrs.

“Could have saved me a lot of trouble if you’d just told me where the map actually was,” Lotor continued, “But, this was rather fun, wasn’t it ladies?”

Zethrid chuckled in agreement, ignoring Hunk’s wince when she tightened her grip. “Been a long time coming,” she said.

Lotor gave Keith another smug smile before pushing him back into Narti’s awaiting arms. Kova’s tail brushed under Keith’s nose, causing him to sneeze.

“Bless you,” Hunk said.

Keith smiled. Even now, Hunk was still looking out for him. “Thanks.”

“Enough,” Lotor said. Hunk shrunk back into himself. Keith glared daggers at Lotor.  
“Enough,” Lotor said again, brushing down his jacket. “Now, for the moment of truth.” Lotor held up the map as if he were presenting it to the gods, before starting on it. At first, he was confident, attempting to twist the dials with a self-assured smile but the more the map resisted, the more frustrated Lotor became. He huffed and cursed under his breath, going so far as to retract his claws, tearing at the metal in desperation. Keith shook his head, a wry smile caught on his lips.

Lotor looked at him, eyes narrowed into slits. He chucked the map at Keith who just managed to catch it when Narti released her grip on him.

“Open it,” Lotor demanded.

Keith stood there, unrelenting.

Lotor took a step closer, menacing. “I said, open it.”

“No.”

Lotor shook his head. “Imbecilic half-breed.”

A shiver wracked down Keith’s spine. “Why do you keep calling me that! Sendak said the exact same thing back on the ship, blathering on about how I’m a blemish on the name of Galra or some shit. What does it mean!” Keith’s voice rose into hysteria, the words tumbling out his mouth. He could feel everyone’s eyes on the back of his neck.

Lotor chuckled. “Exactly what you think it means.” He walked over to Keith, stepping over Shiro’s unconscious form like he wasn’t even there. “Whether you like it or not, Keith, you are one of us.”

Keith sneered. “No. That’s impossible.”

“How so?” Lotor asked. He indicated to the rest of his crew. “We’re all half-breeds here, Keith. ‘Blemishes to the name of Galra’.” He snorted. “Sendak never knew when to shut up.”

“He was your leader, and you’re speaking about him as if –”

Lotor burst out laughing, the rest of his crew joining in. Zethrid’s laugh boomed, while Ezor gave a girlish giggle. Even Narti’s chest rumbled in a silent chuckle.

“That second-rank general? He was nothing but a figurehead. I let him believe he was in charge, how else was I to gain access to the ship? How else was I to remain under the radar whilst continuing my search for my father’s treasure?”

“Father?”

Lotor ignored Keith’s question. “I let them all believe I was a useless, whiny pup. I let them see what they wanted to see so that I could bide my time. Only these lovely ladies knew the real story.”

Ezor waggled her fingers in a mocking wave. Keith returned it with a scowl.

“I certainly kept you busy, didn’t I?” Lotor said, tapping Keith on the nose. “Having you chase down clues to figure out who the dreaded cyborg was that Thace warned you of.”

At Keith’s sharp inhale, Lotor grinned. “Oh yes, you remember him, don’t you? Tall, pointy ears, traitor to the Galra race?”

“He was escaping from you,” Keith said. “You’re the reason he’s dead!”

“He deserved it,” Lotor said, waving Keith’s accusations away. “He was a part of the Blade. He would have died one way or the other, I just helped move the process along.”

Keith huffed. Lotor might as well have been speaking Altean. “What is the blade?”

Lotor’s eyes widened. “You don’t know?”

At Keith’s confused look, Lotor gave another bark of laughter. “Oh, this is too rich. You’ve had this your entire life and never bothered to learn of its origins?” From his belt, Lotor extracted Keith’s dagger. The bindings were gone, revealing its silver hilt and the blue symbol blazed on its surface. The same symbol that Keith had seen on his first day on the ship when Lotor had held him at knifepoint.

“Ah, looking for this?” Lotor revealed the other dagger, the one he’d used that day. There was still a bit of dried blood on the tip. “I got this little souvenir from Thace once we searched him top to bottom. It was no map, but it certainly has come in handy.”

“What does it mean?” Keith gritted out, tired of asking the same questions over and over. “I want answers, Lotor!” he yelled.

“And you’ll receive them in due time!” Lotor yelled back.

Silence.

Lotor rolled back his shoulders, clearing his throat. “You’ve always had this blade, yes?” Lotor asked, dangling Keith’s dagger in front of his face. Keith so badly wanted to reach out for it, to grab it. But he knew it would be for nought.

“Yes,” Keith muttered.

“Who gave it to you?”

“My father. He said it was –” Keith stopped, the words sticking together, clogging his throat.

Lotor smirked. “Go on.”

“…From my mother,” Keith said, voice trembling.

“Starting to make sense?” Lotor asked. When Keith gave no reply, Lotor huffed. “You’re no fun, Keith. Honestly, do you want me to spell it out for you? Your mother was Galra. A part of the Blade of Marmora, no less.”

Lance piped up, asking, “The Blade of what?”

Ezor perked up, ignoring Pidge’s sobs. “The Blade of Marmora. They’re a rebel group who helped bring down Zarkon’s Empire back in the day. They’re still active, although a lot smaller than they were, not much of a threat nowadays.”

“But still troublesome,” Lotor said, tucking both his and Keith’s blades away. “Like Thace’s little stunt when he stole the map and delivered it to the last remaining Blade. None other than the half-breed runt, your precious Keith.”

Lance winced, ducking his head. He refused to meet Keith’s eyes. Keith was happy to do the same. He couldn’t bear to look at anyone right now, especially Lance.

“My mother,” Keith started.

“Dae.”

“What?” Keith whispered, looking at Acxa with surprise. It was the first time he’d ever heard her speak.

“Dae. Your mother’s name was Dae,” she said.

 _Dae._ Keith ran the word over his tongue. It tasted familiar yet strange at the same time.

Lotor nodded. “Dae was the best of the best. She was the leading general at one of our bigger outposts until a certain human caught her eye. Your father, to be exact.”

Keith didn’t have the words, couldn’t speak, so he remained silent, intent on listening, even if he knew he wasn’t going to like what he heard.

“Dae disappeared off our radar for quite some time. Then, two years ago, she made an appearance again when she helped your first mate escape our prison barracks.” As if in confirmation, Shiro gave a low groan, his fingers twitching. “Obviously, she had to be punished for her actions and was executed swiftly. Galra do not take well to traitors.” Keith froze. Lotor had said it so simply, the words slipping off his tongue with ease as if he hadn’t just dealt Keith a death blow to the heart. As if he hadn’t just admitted to killing Keith’s mother.

Keith lunged forward, catching Narti off guard. He scrambled out of her reach and tackled Lotor to the floor. They both landed hard, Keith scraping his palms in the process. He didn’t care. He straddled Lotor, stopping him from kicking Keith off before he sent the first fist flying. He was swinging punch after punch, not caring that he could be shot any second, not caring that he would be putting everyone else’s lives in jeopardy. Lotor had killed his mother, had openly admitted to it without so much as a batted eyelash. Lotor had killed his mother, and he needed to pay.

Keith had just split Lotor’s lip open when he was ripped off the Galran, his arms pinned to his sides.

“Let me go! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” He kept screaming and yelling, throwing curses and threats which he was determined to see through. He’d only just begun. This was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to what he was about to do to Lotor.

He saw a blink of silver, then, something cold cut through his cheek. A sting, then searing heat as blood trickled down Keith’s cheek.

“Enough,” Lotor hissed.

Keith stilled, his chest heaving. He was buzzing with energy, fingers tingling where his knuckles were split, sinew creaking from his tight-clenched fists. Keith snarled at Lotor before spitting in his face.

Lotor grimaced, wiping the saliva from the corner of his mouth before staring down Keith. Keith grinned, kept grinning when Lotor punched him straight in the mouth. When he could taste blood on the tip of his tongue. When he felt the bridge of his nose crack and the cut on his cheek trickle liquid red down the side of his face like tears. He just kept grinning and grinning and grinning.

After what felt like a millennium, Lotor stopped. He stepped back, spitting a strand of white hair out of his mouth. It was speckled with blood – Lotor’s or his own, Keith couldn’t tell.

“Perhaps now you will be more willing in assisting me in opening this damn contraption.”

Keith had dropped the map at some point during their scuffle. It had managed to roll all the way down to Rover’s still sputtering corpse. Ezor picked it up, looking at it considerably. “It’s definitely the right one,” she said. “I remember pretty boy over there showing it to Nyma.” Ezor nodded over to the Lance who stilled at the sound of his name.

“What?” he squeaked.

“Oh. Don’t you know my party trick?” Ezor said, before blinking out of existence. Just as quickly she reappeared, face to face with Lance. Lance startled, much to Ezor’s amusement.

“Gotchya.”

“Enough, Ezor,” said Acxa, who’d taken ahold of Pidge while Ezor showed off her talent, “come take back your hostage.”

Ezor pouted. “You’re no fun,” she said but did as she was told. She chucked the map to Lotor before ambling over to Pidge and taking hold of their wrists once more.

Lotor caught the map, smiling down at it rather smugly, before placing it in Keith’s hands.

“Open it,” he said.

Keith spat out a glob of blood in response.

Lotor sighed, speaking in a bored tone. “Open it, or your sharpshooter will lose his trigger finger.”

Keith stiffened, turned to see Acxa walk up to Lance with a knife in her hand.

“Keith!” Lance yelled, struggling in Zethrid’s grip. “Don’t do it! Don’t do it! I’ll be fine, I’ll be – ah!”

With a quick swipe of her knife, Acxa had cut open two of Lance’s fingertips. Blood splintered across the floor.

“Stop!” Keith yelled. His throat felt raw. Even swallowing hurt. “Stop, I’ll open it.”

Acxa halted where she was, still holding onto Lance’s bleeding hand.

“Keith,” Lance whimpered.

Keith averted his eyes. He looked down at the map, the ink-black surface smothered in rust-coloured blood. He could still see the buttons and dials though. Quickly, he opened the map, against Lance’s protests.

The dials turned easily under Keith’s fingers once he’d pressed the correct buttons in sequence. He turned the top half on its axis and heard the resounding _click_. The buttons sunk in, allowing the purple lights to seep through his fingers. They came together to form an image of Treasure Planet above their heads, resplendent. Keith heard a breathless gasp from somewhere behind him. Just as quickly, the lights dissolved back into a shapeless mass and zoomed out of the entrance of the Egg. It created a long thin line of purple light, a pulse zooming from the map in Keith’s hands all the way out of the entrance and into the night. It was like a beacon, directing them where to go. Kova pawed at the light, trying to catch it in his claws. Everyone’s eyes had widened, filled with wonder and amazement, but no one was more taken aback than Lotor. He was grinning from ear to ear.

“Finally,” he breathed. Having drunk in his fill, Lotor gave his commands to Acxa. “Execute the earthlings and Altean scraps. The sooner we dispose of them the quicker we can –” The light shot back through the entrance, taking its purple glow with it as Keith shut the map.

“You want the map,” Keith said, “You keep them alive.”

Lotor growled. “I should wring your neck for the amount of trouble you’ve caused me,” he hissed.

“Go ahead. But good luck opening this bad boy without my help.” Keith chucked the map up and down, playing with it like it wasn’t the only lead to a treasure beyond anyone’s wildest beliefs.

Lotor’s eyebrows raised at Keith’s pluckiness. He looked to Acxa who returned his gaze. She pondered for a moment, then nodded.

Lotor turned back to Keith, keeping their eyes locked as he gave his orders. “Tie them all up and keep watch of them in the spare longboat, Zethrid. The rest of us will go along with Keith to find his buried treasure.” Lotor grabbed Keith by the scruff of his neck, dragging him to the entrance of the Egg. Keith struggled the entire way, kicking, trying to lash out. Everyone was busy moving, Ezor tying Pidge and Shiro up while Zethrid started lugging Lance and Hunk to Red.

Lance caught Keith’s eye. Keith stopped his struggling enough to mouth an _I’m sorry_. Lance gave him a tender smile and responded with _Me too._

“Wait.” Lotor’s crew halted, all awaiting his next order. “Acxa, bring the sharpshooter along in our longboat. We don’t want Keith to get any smart ideas, do we, Keith?” He smiled the devil's smile. It was all savageness and teeth.

Keith looked at Lance. He was cradling his hand to his chest, pinching at the torn skin of his fingertips to try and stop the bleeding. Keith watched Lance’s face drop. How his bright blue eyes dulled with fear as Axca lead him away from Red, away from his friends, away from safety.

This is my fault. This is all my fault. This is _my fault._

He was supposed to be the one in danger. He was the one supposed to be under Lotor’s wrath. Not Lance, not Pidge, not Shiro, no one. No one except him. Because this was what Keith did. He got into trouble. He got punched and kicked and spat on and did the same back. He pushed people away, kept to himself, unwilling to open up. And then Pidge had happened. And Ms. Raqa. And Hunk and Shiro and Lance and even Allura. He couldn’t do anything right, could he?

He couldn’t even push away the people he loved right.

Keith hung his head in defeat, hiding behind his bangs. “No,” he muttered. “No, we don’t.”

“Good boy,” Lotor said, ruffling Keith’s hair before starting for the longboat. “Hurry along. Haven’t got all day.”

Keith didn’t struggle against Narti when she guided him to the longboat, nor when she took his bayard away and tossed it to Zethrid for safe keeping.

He didn’t do anything because what was the point? Lotor had won. Lotor had won.

 

***

 

Lance tried to keep his breathing under control. He couldn’t hear anything except the rapid beating of his heart and Keith’s screams on repeat.

Lotor had killed Keith’s mother, had killed however many Blades to get where he was today. And he wasn’t even sorry. No remorse was evident in his wicked smiles, not even when Keith split his lip and spat in his face. Especially not when he’d ordered Acxa to cut off Lance’s finger.

Lance clutched his hands together firmly. They were bound behind his back, the ropes so tight they were cutting off his blood circulation at the wrists. But that didn’t take away any of the pain in his fingertips. Acxa’s knife must have been tipped with something because the pain was slowly creeping up his fingers and blooming into his palm, followed by a dull numbing sensation. He prayed to the stars that they didn’t fall off.

He looked over Ezor’s shoulder and spotted a wisp of inky-black hair. They were flying with the boosters on full thrust, Keith having opened the map once again, allowing the strange purple light to snap taught and create a path for them to follow. Zethrid and Narti weren’t far behind in Red. Red was filled to the brim with the rest of the group, all bound together in clever knots that Lance couldn’t keep track of. They’d left Rover behind.

Lance closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. He couldn’t stand to hear Pidge’s sobs, to see the tear stains wreaking havoc down their cheeks. He turned his attention back to Keith, willing him to look back, to meet his eyes. But Keith had gone quiet after Lotor ordered Acxa to bring Lance along. Keith had put up a fight the entire time during Lotor’s spiel, had kicked and clawed and scratched to try and fight for himself, for all of them. But as soon as Acxa had started on Lance’s ropes, Keith had wilted, going along willingly as Narti guided him into the longboat. It was if he’d given up. But that wasn’t like Keith. _That’s not like my Keith,_ Lance thought, willing his tears to stay where they were. He refused to cry in front of these pirates, in front of these murderers.

Lance straightened up, ignoring Ezor’s unimpressed look. He didn’t care what she thought, what any of them thought. He might not be the smartest or the strongest, but he knew how to get out of sticky situations. It was his speciality.

He set his sights on Lotor, his mane of white hair whipping in the wind. Lance could feel the loud pulse of his ego all the way over here.

Lotor had killed Keith’s mother, had killed Rover, had made them all believe Shiro was dead. He’d tricked them and hurt them, hurt _Keith_ , and Lance was determined to make Lotor regret it for the rest of his very short life.

 

***

 

The boat came to a sudden halt, nearly causing its passengers to be flung out of their seats. Keith didn’t notice, just kept staring down at the map in his hands. It was pulsing with a dull, purple glow yet it was still cool to the touch. He absentmindedly wiped away the remaining blood off its shiny surface. The cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding a while ago and the blood was already beginning to cake on his now stiff knuckles. He tried not to wiggle his nose too much. It was probably broken.

“Wait here with the prisoners, Zethrid,” Lotor said, “Narti, come with us.”

“Wait!”

Everyone turned to Red where Coran was waving his legs to try and grab their attention. “As the planet’s one and only caretaker, I feel I should help assist you in your further journeying.”

“And who are you?” Lotor said, arching a brow.

“Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, at your service." Coran tried to give a salute but failed, what with his hands being tied behind his back. "I was Zarkon’s closest advisor until he stuck me in a pod and set me to awaken a hundred years later,” Coran said, wiggling his moustache.

“Is that so,” Lotor said, sharing a look with Acxa. They must have come to an agreement as Lotor ordered Zethrid to untie Coran. Coran offered up his hands and said a polite, “Thank you,” once he was cut free. He hopped off the boat and started towards Lotor. “Don’t worry, Princess,” Coran said, waving to Allura, “I’ll be back before you can Herphantious Megorma.”

The boat swayed as everyone disembarked. Keith had to be dragged to his feet by Acxa who kept a firm grip on his forearm. No one had bothered tying him up. Keith guessed they didn’t see the point. It wasn’t like he was going to put up a fight.

Keith’s knees buckled when he landed on the ground, Acxa no longer lending him her support.

“Keith!”

Keith blinked slowly, willing his body to work. Everything felt muted, his surroundings blurry around the edges. He could hear a scuffle going on somewhere behind him.

“Let go!”

“Stop struggling or you’ll lose more than a finger.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, he needs help!”

“Pipe down.”

“Keith! Keith, listen to me!”

Keith saw a hand rise high in the air, watched as it swooped down, about to hit its mark. Somehow, he was standing. He didn’t think twice about it as he stepped in, grabbing the hand firmly by the wrist.

“Don’t,” he muttered.

Ezor stiffened under his touch, eyes wide in shock. Keith ignored her in favour of looking Lance up and down. He looked ruffled, the collar of his blue shirt torn from rough-handling. There was a scratch that looked very much like claw marks on his cheek but otherwise, he was unscathed. He was shaking.

“Keith,” he whispered.

Keith turned his attention back to Ezor. “Touch him again and you’ll be the one to lose a finger,” he said, before releasing his grip on her wrist. Ezor stood there, arm still raised mid-air, frozen.

“Ezor! Bring them!”

Ezor came back to herself, giving a playful smile although Keith could see how it faltered, twitching a little in the corner. “Come along,” she said, shooing Keith and Lance in front of her, “Don’t want to keep him waiting.” She led them to the front of the boat where Lotor was currently standing, talking with Coran. Coran sent them a worried look but said nothing.

The purple lights were pulsing at a faster rate, disappearing into a gathering of tubular plants. Lotor brought out a cutlass and started cutting down the tubes, making a pathway. Ezor pushed Keith after him, Lance following close behind.

They stumbled through Lotor’s make-shift path, following the map’s guiding light until they came to a clearing. Lotor stopped. Everyone else did the same.

“Where is it?” he said, softly at first. “Where is it!”

Lotor dragged Keith by the collar, flinging him to the ground. Keith pushed himself up on shaky hands and looked out. They were on a cliff face, a large gorge standing between them and a great expanse of mossy land, tubular plants and cotton-puffed trees for miles on end. And nothing else. Keith looked up to find the purple lights blinking in the middle of the air just above his head, slamming against an invisible barrier. The map buzzed in his hands and the lights receded, disappearing back into the orb before the map closed shut.

A pair of boots came into Keith’s vision. Lotor bent down, his hair brushing the mossy ground at his feet.

“Explain,” Lotor ordered.

Keith fumbled with the map, going through the sequence. None of the buttons were going in, the axis refusing to turn. “It’s not opening,” he muttered, becoming frustrated with himself. He’d gone through all of this, had made his friends endure so much pain for what? A Dud? A wild goose-chase? Was that what this was? One big old “Fuck you” from the great Captain Zacharn?

Lotor growled before sending a solid kick into Keith’s stomach.

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Lotor, perhaps this is a trap?” Acxa said, hand outstretched but never touching her leader.

“Yeah,” Ezor said, turning her attention to Lance. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Don’t look at me! Coran’s the tech wizard!”

“Actually, I’m more of a tech amateur. I was first and foremost, King Alfor’s advisor.” Coran said.

“Then how the heck did you end up being the planet’s caretaker?”

Coran shrugged. “My guess is as good as yours. Like I said, my memory chip’s lost.”

Keith looked about frantically, trying to think through the muddiness in his brain. He was feeling woozy, his stomach muscles protesting as he tried, and failed, to sit up. He stared down at the now useless map in his hands. It was refusing to open, there was no way past this gorge, and if he didn’t do something quickly then Lotor wouldn’t hesitate on taking out his rage on Lance.

And then he spotted it.

There was an indent in the ground, small, slightly bigger than Keith’s fist. He crawled over, ignoring the pain. He swiped away the bits of moss and gunk surrounding the indent, uncovering a metal-like surface. It was shaped just like the map, circular markings and all. Keith looked at the map and the dent, back and forth. With a shrug, he jammed the map into the hole.

Immediately, the ground beneath them began to vibrate. Underneath all the moss, strange purple patterns lit up, expanding around the map like a ripple in water, before fading again. Then, a holographic orb formed above the map. It raised up until it came to chest-height, floating by itself.

Keith scrambled to his feet, clutching at his side. He peered at the orb, wanting to take a closer look. He was interrupted when a deep rumbling echoed all around them. Keith looked to the gorge and watched as seven beams of light slowly crawled across the ground and up the cliff face. Coming together as one, they formed a violet comet, shooting up half a kilometer into the sky. With a _crack!_ , the beam splintered down the middle, unfolding to create a large triangular cut in the sky. It glitched but then seemed to settle, the space opening to reveal –

“The Lagoon Nebula?” Keith said, disbelief overcoming his pain.

Ocean blues and greens shone through the triangle, contrasting greatly with the dank grey overcast sky of Treasure Planet.

Acxa scoffed. “That’s impossible. The Lagoon Nebula is halfway round the galaxy.”

Keith took in the sight before him, willing himself to believe it. He shot a look to Coran and Lance, who looked just as taken aback.

Before him was the floating orb. It was about the size of one of Pidge’s globes back home in their study, marking out the different countries and continents of Earth. This one differed, however. Its surface was a purple grid dotted with small symbols and pictures, bits of unintelligible writing floating about here and there. It spun slowly on an axis, giving Keith access to every side. It reminded Keith of the first time he and Pidge had opened the map when it had created a grid of the galaxy.

Keith gasped. He lightly trailed his fingers across the surface of the globe.

_A big door._

He touched the first symbol he happened upon. The Lagoon Nebula blinked out of existence, and its place was a view to a whole other world; fuchsia, crystalline buildings floating in the middle of nowhere as oddly-ships flew to and from their docking bays.

_Opening and closing._

He pressed another symbol, causing the triangle, _the door_ , to blink and open to a new destination. A sharp gust of hot air blew across Keith’s face as a sandstorm raged on the other side.

Coran stepped up to Keith, buzzing at his side. “The big door! The big door!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Keith said, looking down at the map before him. “Yeah, that’s how Captain Zacharn did it,” he said, a big grin starting to tug at his lips. “How he roamed the universe, stealing treasure and then –”

“Vanishing, without a trace,” Lance finished for him. He gave Keith a wobbly smile and a shrug. “Guess the stories were true.”

Keith smiled, trying to convey everything in that one action. _I’m sorry, forgive me, I’m going to fix this. I’m going to get us out of here._

Lance nodded, his smile turning sly.

Keith turned back to the globe, scouring its contents in a search for anything that might seem familiar.

There was Cynapys, the neighbouring planet to Montressor, and the Cygnus Cross Pidge had pointed out on their travels. Now if he could just find –

“There.” Keith pressed the crescent moon near the center of the map and the door blinked once again, revealing the Garrison Space Port in all its glory. Ships were busy bringing in their cargo, while others took off on their next adventure. If Keith could just get them a longboat, they could –

Lotor shoved Keith away. “Yes, yes. ‘Captain Zacharn’, the great pillager of the known universe. But where did he stash it all.” Lotor pressed symbol after symbol, watching as the door opened and closed in quick succession, revealing worlds Keith could only dream of.

“Treasure,” Coran muttered. “Treasure!” He clutched at his head, burying his fingers into his ginger hair. “Bur-buried in the –”

“Buried in the centroid of the mechanism,” Lance said, eyes going wide. Keith could practically see the light bulb shining above his head. “Keith!” He exclaimed. “Keith! What if the whole planet is the mechanism!”

“What?”

“You remember when we walked through all that weird machine-type-stuff to get to the trapdoor? What if that’s all part of the planet? What if the planet is just a giant alien machine-ball-thingie?

“Then that would mean... the treasure is buried in the center of this planet,” Keith said, slowly, trying to believe the words as he said them. It made sense. It actually made sense.

“Then how the hell are we to get there!” Lotor yelled, still pressing one symbol after another in his fruitless search.

Keith straightened up, ignoring the twinge in his side. This wasn't over. They still had a chance. He just needed to be smart about this.

_Patience yields focus._

He ambled over, sending Lotor a smug smirk as he bumped him with his hip, knocking Lotor out of the way. “All you have to do,” he said, “is open the right door.” He leaned down, stretching his finger towards the center icon which resembled Treasure Planet, little rings encircling the orb and all. A small solid dot was floating at its core. Keith touched it.

The door shimmered, taking away the view of a planet full of muddy swamp grounds and replacing it with a vision of gold.

Lotor stopped and stared. Coran looked much the same, eyes bugging out of his head, jaw dropped so low it might as well have been scraping the floor.

“You did it,” Coran said, looking to Keith. “You found Zarkon’s trove.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon's trove and good ol' teamwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, so, just as a head's up I'm not incorporating anything from season 5 so you guys don't have to worry about spoilers. I pretty much based the story off season 1 to 3, before we knew Lotor and his generals better so that's all I can really say about their characterisation in this fic ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Lance had imagined this moment a million times over, but he could never have predicted the sight before him.

Not only were they currently walking through a magic doorway that could literally take them anywhere across the galaxy in a matter of seconds, but they were about to enter the center of a gigantic alien tech ball and lay eyes on Zacharn’s trove, something only ever depicted in stories and children’s books.

Lotor entered first, followed by Acxa and Keith. Coran was close behind, with Narti on his tail. Ezor gave him the go-ahead. Since Keith’s intervention, she hadn’t so much as laid a finger on him. Lance couldn’t help the shiver that wracked through his ribcage at the memory. Keith had shown no emotion when he’d threatened Ezor, his face deadpan, eyes heavy-lidded, as if promising to cut off someone’s finger wasn’t a big deal. And when he’d looked at Lance… all he’d seen was an emptiness in those indigo eyes. After having figured out the map, Keith looked a little more like himself, but Lance was still worried that that emptiness was floating just beneath the surface, ready to reappear at a whim.

Lance took a steadying breath before stepping through the doorway. He felt a little resistance, almost as if he were walking through water before he stepped onto the other side. His jaw dropped.

He was expecting to see treasure chests filled to the brim; coins, jewels, collections of golden goblets and rare silverware spilling over the rims and covering every nook and cranny in a sea of gold. He thought endless strings of pearls would lay causally strewn across the floor like snakes basking in the sun. He expected every childhood fantasy bundled up into one great chamber. He expected so much out of this moment.

There was not a spot of gold in sight.

The chamber was spherical in shape, the roof creating a dome above their heads. Shelves lined the walls, packed tightly with rows upon rows of large cylindrical vials of purple liquid. They must have held five liters each. A walkway wrapped around the room, allowing one access to the shelves. A meter below that were thick metal bridges that lead to and created a frame around a large glowing yellow orb that hung floating in the center of the chamber. One bridge was wider than the others, more like a platform, allowing access to the orb, although Lance had a feeling he should steer clear of it. It looked like it could go off at any second.

Lotor broke the silence with a breathy, “Yes.”

“What is this place?” Keith said, more to himself than anyone else.

“Zarkon’s trove,” Lotor said. “The loot of a thousand worlds.”

“I think you mean Zacharn,” Lance corrected. “And where’s the treasure? The gold, the jewels he stole?” He looked around the room frantically. Maybe it was hidden in a secret compartment? A room behind the bookshelf?

Lotor let out a bark of laughter. “This is the treasure.”

Lance was about to point at Lotor when he realized his hands were still tied behind his back. He huffed, giving Lotor a pointed look instead. “Okay, last I checked, treasure consists of money. You know, that stuff you use to buy other stuff with?”

Lotor sighed, giving a great roll of his eyes. “You humans and your obsession with gold. You can never get past your own greed to see the bigger picture. Who needs money when you have an endless supply of Quintessence?”

Lance shook his head in confusion. Lotor wasn’t making any sense. None of this made any sense. “Quin-what now?”

Coran spoke up, never removing his gaze from the shelves. “Quintessence. The life force of all planets. It is what makes up you and me, what Alteans and Galra used to power their machinery. It is life itself.”

“So, you’re telling me,” Keith said, pointing at the shelves, “that that shit is bottled life?”

“In layman’s terms, yes.” Coran broke his gaze away from the shelves of purple liquid, of Quintessence, to address them properly. “It is life in its rawest form. Although, by the looks of these canisters, Galra have already had their influence over them.”

“Exactly,” Lotor said. “With this amount of Quintessence, I will be able to rebuild my father’s empire. To restore, and maintain, the honour that was once lost for the Galra race.”

“Your father?” Keith said. “Captain Zacharn was around over a hundred years ago, just before Zarkon started his Empire.”

“And then suddenly he disappeared off the face of the universe, never to be heard of again,” Lotor said. “Why is that, do you think?”

Keith gave no answer. Lotor continued anyway. “Zarkon and Zacharn was the same person. He started out as a pirate, making his way around the universe, pillaging and plucking every bit of gold he could find. But soon enough he became bored of it, the tasks too easy, too mundane. He decided, instead, to try his hand at diplomacy. And wouldn’t you know it? He became the Emperor of the Galra. But even that became dull. Hence, the Galra Empire.” Lotor sounded like a sarcastic story-teller, a narrator who knew the ending and didn’t care that he was about to spoil it for his listeners. “He could have ruled for ten thousand years if he hadn’t let his greed override his logic. King Alfor of Altea took advantage of that and managed to cause a rebellion, overthrowing my father and taking back the planets he’d ruled. In return, Zarkon destroyed the planet Altea, along with most of its inhabitants.” Lotor side-eyed Coran, his distaste more than evident. Coran did not cower but he did not speak either. He was smarter than that. “He fled,” Lotor continued, “never to be seen again. Even I don’t know where he scuttled away to die. What I do know, is that he left a crumbling Empire behind, all Galra-kind having to scrounge for scraps across the universe in order to survive. But not anymore.” Lotor looked at the volumes of Quintessence, eyes alight.

“Keith, did you know about this?” Lance asked. Keith was the one who found the map, the reason they all shipped themselves to Treasure Planet in the first place. He knew how to open the map, how it worked. Had he known this whole time? Was he in on this?

Keith shook his head, his eyes wide in disbelief. He looked lost, confused as if he’d just woken up from a ten-year-long coma. “The gunshots. It’s supposed to be treasure,” he murmured to himself.

Lotor scoffed. “Imbeciles. Just like Zarkon. I am going to excel where my father failed. I will not make his mistakes.” He looked at them over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. “So, I recommend you stay out of my way if you wish to live.”

Having spoken his part, Lotor turned away from them and addressed his crew. “This is only the tip of the iceberg, there are still storage units below, we must –”

In Lotor’s distraction, Lance sidled up to Keith’s side.

“Keith?”

Keith didn’t answer, still staring dumbfounded at the Quintessence.

Lance huffed, knocking Keith’s shoulder with his own. “Keith!”

Keith stumbled, turned to face Lance. Most of the blood had clotted across the bridge of his nose and the cut in his cheek, but dark, purple bruising was beginning to form underneath his right eye. Lance could only imagine the amount of bruising hidden underneath Keith’s shirt. Maybe once this whole ordeal was over, if they did manage to get back to the Laith somehow, they could stick Keith in one of those healing pod things. Although, he had a feeling Keith would stubbornly refuse. His lips twitched a little at the thought.

Keith’s eyes looked glazed over when he met Lance’s gaze, none of his raw, fighting spirit to be seen.

“Keith?” Lance said, stepping closer. “Keith, come on buddy, we need you.” Lance did it without thinking, without caring that there were others. He leaned in, resting his forehead against Keith’s.

“Keith, please," he whispered.

Lance heard a small gasp, could feel it against his own lips.

“As much as I also want to stand here and the stare,” Lance said, stepping back, “we need to try and figure a way out of here.”

Keith blinked a few times before slowly nodding his head. “Yeah,” he finally rasped out. “Yeah, you’re right.”

_Thank the stars._

“Okay, cool,” Lance said, nodding along. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Turn around,” Keith said.

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Lance arched a brow but did as he was told. He felt Keith wrap a gentle hand around his wrist, heard a knife on rope, and then his bindings fell away, freeing his hands.

Lance turned, gaping at Keith as he tucked his dagger back in its holster.

“How did you –”

“You’re not the only one whose light with his fingers,” Keith said with a wink.

_Okay. That just happened._

“Ah, ahem, alright, so what’s next,” Lance said, trying to keep his blush under control.

Keith seemed steadier now, surer of himself. His eyes were clear and focused. Lance hoped they would stay that way. “On the count of three we’re going to – wait, where’s Coran?”

They both looked about, trying to keep it subtle so as not to catch Lotor’s attention until Lance spotted a familiar head of ginger hair kneeling at the entranceway.

“Coran?”

Coran’s head shot up. He looked shaky, his hands fidgeting. His left eyelid was twitching. “Ah, yes, ah, hello boys.”

“Coran?” Keith repeated, starting towards the Altean.

“No stop!” Coran said, waving his hands, warding Keith off.

Keith stopped, shared a look with Lance. “What is it?”

Coran stood, although his eyes kept trailing across the floor. “I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Probably just that century-old food goo you tried to force feed us,” Lance said. He inched his way over to Coran until he was within arm’s reach. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around Coran’s shoulders before leading Coran away, patting him on the back encouragingly. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

“But –”

“You were saying, Keith?” Lance asked, ignoring Coran’s protestations.

“On the count of three, we’re running to that ledge,” Keith pointed to the very unstable-looking bridge which led to the quite ominous-looking glowing orb.

“What?!” Lance yelled, then covered his own mouth with his hand. “Are you nuts?” he whispered.

Keith ignored him, already starting his countdown. “One.”

“Keith! No, I am not –”

Keith took a step back, setting himself up for a sprint. “Two.”

“Keith!”

“Keith, I’m with Lance on this one,” Coran started.

Keith ignored them in favour of grabbing them both by the hand.

“Three!”

Keith sprinted, and Lance and Coran could do nothing but sprint alongside him in fear of being dragged. They rushed past Lotor (causing his hair to whip round his face) and ran headlong towards the ledge.

Lance heard the click of a gun, felt the heat of a laser whizz past his ear, singeing the tip of his ear, and watched as a blue blast hit a canister of Quintessence on the opposite end of the room. The glass shattered, littering the floor in the diamond-like dust. Quintessence exploded everywhere, splattering its neighbouring canisters purple and dripping onto the floor.

“Don’t shoot!” Lotor yelled. “Every drop of Quintessence is invaluable!”

Lance caught a quirk of Keith’s lips out of the corner of his eye.

He knew Lotor would refuse to shoot. _Nice one, Mullet._

However, Lance quickly retracted that thought as they grew closer and closer to the red orb.

“Uh, Keith? I don’t know about you, but I don’t really feel like getting incinerated today!”

“Trust me!” Keith said. He gave Lance’s hand a squeeze. Lance returned it.

Keith sped up, so Lance did as well, even though he could feel the heat emanating from the orb now.

_Come on, Keith._

They were about to ram straight into the orb when Keith shoved them to the left, calling out “Jump!” just a little too late.

Lance tripped over his feet as he felt his momentum shift, Keith tugging him along as they fell to the lower level.

Keith didn’t let go of Lance’s hand, which was a mistake on his part. Lance ended up landing heavily on Keith’s chest with a loud _oof!_ Keith groaned underneath Lance’s weight. Keith glared up at him. _If looks could kill…_

“Sorry,” Lance said, rolling off Keith. At any other time, that moment might have been romantic (put it in slow motion, edit out Keith’s death-scowl, add a bit of music and viola) but with Lotor’s crew on their tails and rifle blasts whizzing past their heads, the romance was sort of lost on Lance.

Keith quickly scrambled to his feet, grabbing Lance’s hand once more. “Don’t apologize yet, I still don’t know if we’re gonna get out of here alive. Come on.” Keith grabbed Coran by the collar, shoving him towards the nearest hallway. “The more distance we put between us and Lotor the better.”

“Yeah, about that,” Lance said as they began to run, again. “Why exactly are we running through a maze of Quintessence when there was a perfectly good door _right behind us._ ”

“Because,” Keith said, tugging Lance to the left, Coran following just behind, “We would have been shot through the back by Lotor’s crew.” He said it so matter of fact as if it were obvious. It probably was, now that Lance thought about it.

“Okay… but then why are we down here?”

“You heard Lotor,” Keith said. They came to a standstill at a fork-way. Keith considered the two halls before huffing in frustration and pulling Lance to the right. “There are storage units down here.”

As if to prove his point, they came across a hallway with glass panels on either side. As they ran down the hall, Lance perused the contents of the rooms. Sure enough, he was met with shelves upon shelves of more Quintessence. Lance panted. His chest was starting to burn from all the running. How was Keith still managing to run without so much as breaking a sweat while dragging Lance behind him?

“Yeah, which is great and all when you’re wanting to go Quintessence shopping but I still don’t see how that helps us?”

“How do you think they transported all of this Quintessence?”

Lance came to a stop, causing Keith to stumble. “Transport?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Yes, transport. You heard Lotor. This stuff was used during the reign of Zarkon’s Empire. As a weapon or fuel, I don’t know. But they must have transported it somehow if this was the storage unit. So that means –”

“There will be cargo ships,” Lance said in astonishment. “Keith, you brilliant Mullet man, I could kiss you right now.”

Keith blanched. “Yeah, um, we can talk about that later. Right now, we need to get to a ship, and fast.”

“Boys!”

Lance and Keith turned to find Coran standing near a sealed doorway. He indicated to a panel. Lance and Keith walked over. It was a hand scanner.

“Yeah, that’s great Coran,” Lance huffed, “If we could actually open the doors.”

“But we can,” Coran said, eyeing Keith.

_Of course._

“You’re part Galra!” Lance exclaimed, shoving Keith towards the panel. “Hurry up, do your Galra thing!”

“Are you sure this will even work?” Keith said, slapping Lance’s hands away.

Lance shrugged, sharing a look with Coran. “Worth a try, right?”

Keith did not look convinced but, removing one of his gloves, he placed his palm on the scanner. There a small beeping noise and then the doors slid open.

“Alright!” Lance said, pumping a fist in the air. Keith stared at his hand in shock. Lance shook Keith’s shoulders. “Come on, man. Cargo ship, escaping, remember?”

Coran gave a low whistle as he looked through the open doorway. “I think we found what you were looking for,” he said, giving them a proud smile.

Keith and Lance shared a look before peeping around the corner to see the contents of the room.

Lance had been expecting a cargo ship, one of those small ones like back at the Garrison. This though, this was something else entirely.

The ship rivalled the Laith in size, it’s wood painted in a dark finish that almost looked purple in the low lighting. Purple, it seemed, was the Galra colour theme. This particular shade wasn’t very becoming but one couldn’t be picky when it came to their only means of an escape.

“Now this is what I’m talking about,” Keith said.

“Stop!”

Lance turned just in time to see Acxa raising her pistol. Narti was just behind her, Kova clinging to her shoulder. “I’ll shoot!” Acxa warned, aiming the barrel at Lance.

“No, you won’t!”

Lance felt a hand on the scruff of his neck, and the next moment he was being hauled into the room. Keith pressed his hand to the panel on the inside of the room. Once the doors were closed, he sliced his dagger through the control box, ensuring that the doors stayed closed.

“That ought to hold them,” Keith said. They could hear muffled gun shots going off on the opposite side of the door. They didn’t even make a dent in the thick metal panelling.

Keith turned his attention to the ship. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Keith! Wait, _Keith!_ Aren’t you forgetting, you just sealed off the only exit?”

Keith ignored Lance’s yells, climbing up the ladder to the deck of the ship. Lance sighed heavily before running after him. Stupid Mullet.

Lance climbed aboard, shortly followed by Coran who tripped over a chest of gold. _Gold._

Lance looked around the deck, a slow smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

“Mother of quiznak.”

Every inch of the deck was covered in gold. Jewels, pearls, goblets and doubloons strewed across every inch of available surface. This was the storybook treasures Lance had imagined. This was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Lance spotted Keith who was standing on a pile of gold coins, running his hands through them as if it were sand. He beamed at Lance.

“Alright Mullet,” Lance said clapping his hands together. “Let’s say I get this side of the ship, and you – Holy shit!”

Keith was at Lance’s side in an instant, dagger drawn and ready to attack. “What, what is it!”

Lance pawed at Keith’s arm, indicating for him to put his dagger away. Keith did so, albeit hesitantly. Once the dagger was gone, Lance directed Keith’s gaze to the helm of the ship where none other than Emperor Zarkon sat on his throne. At least, what was left of him. He was skin and bones, the life completely sucked out of him. The remnants of his clothes lay in tatters across his exposed rib cage, his armour plates sagging without the well-defined muscle to bear them. A hat sat jauntily on top of his skull.

“Zarkon,” Keith whispered, barely audible.

“In the flesh,” Lance said with a half-hearted chuckle. Keith sent him an unamused look before starting towards the skeleton.

“Ah, Keith? Maybe we shouldn’t go near the backdoors skeleton that could wake up at any second?”

Keith waved Lance off, coming to stand toe to toe with Zarkon. He kicked at Zarkon’s boot, causing a puff of dust to float into the air.

“I don’t think this guy is coming back from the dead anytime soon.”

Lance hesitated before picking his way to Keith’s side (although not without pocketing a few gems and coins that caught his eye). He peered down at the once mighty Zarkon, following the soft curves of bones and joints all the way down from his empty skull to his not-so-empty hand.

“What’s that?” Lance asked, leaning down for closer inspection.

“A pile of bones?” Keith offered with a snort.

“No. What is that?” Lance touched Zarkon’s hand, inspecting a piece of what appeared to be metal plating. It was small and rectangular in shape, no bigger than Lance’s thumb. A streak of green danced across its surface. Before he could think better of it, he pried it out of Zarkon’s hand, dismantling some of his finger bones in the process.

“Whoops.”

“Lance, what are you doing?!”

Lance brought the slither of metal up for Keith to look at it. “A thin slither of metal –”

“With an aquamarine marking,” Keith said, pinching the memory chip out of Lance’s hand. “Coran! Coran, we found your memory chip!”

“Uh, excuse you!” Lance said, knocking his shoulder with Keith’s. “I found the chip.”

“Does it really matter?” Keith said as he tried to catch Coran’s attention.

“Uh, yeah.”

Coran had been studying bow of the ship, running his hands along the bannister. He perked up when Keith called him.

“Coran, is this your memory chip?”

The Altean walked over and peered down at the chip in Keith’s hand. He scratched his head. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s a part of your brain!” Lance squawked.

“Exactly,” Coran said with a shrug.

Keith sighed before pushing at Coran’s shoulder to turn him around. “It’s worth a shot.”

Carefully, he pulled back Coran’s ear away so he could slip the chip into its slot. It entered with a soft _click_ and then a loud whirring began.

Coran stiffened. He began vibrating.

“Keith!” Lance exclaimed, looking at Coran with alarm. He was shaking violently, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He looked like he was having a seizure.

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Keith said, raising his hands in defensc.

“Oh, I’m looking at you!”

“Gentleman!”

Lance tore his gaze away from Keith to find a perky, none-vibrating Coran standing before them. He looked perfectly normal as if he wasn’t just having a fit mere seconds ago. He twisted his moustache between two fingers, a smile tugging at his lips. “I think I just got my memories back.”

Keith and Lance shared a look before they both slammed into Coran, giving him a group hug.

“Alright, Coran! So, you remember what happened?” Lance said.

“Yep,” Coran said, grin broadening.

“How Zarkon was defeated?”

“Yep.”

“Who built the planet?”

“Yes, the Olkari. An ingenious race. They can build anything they set their minds to.”

Lance remembered learning about them in a class at the Garrison. They had to be well-versed in all major species that were a part of the Garrison Coalition. The Olkari were architects and manufactures, could create and build with any material at a touch of their hand. It would make sense that Zarkon would have them build an entire planet just to hide his treasure.

“So, are there any back doors or anything that we can use without Lotor noticing? Because I’m pretty sure he might have figured out by now that we’re no longer being held captive at his side.”

Coran frowned. “I’m afraid not. There’s a hatch for this ship that leads back to the main chamber, but there is only one entrance and exit. It was designed that way so that Zarkon didn’t have to set too many booby-traps.”

“I’m sorry what?” Keith stammered.

“Booby-traps,” Coran said, matter-of-fact. “You don’t think Zarkon wouldn’t take precautions to protect the loot of a thousand worlds, would you?”

As if on cue, the floor began to shake underneath their feet, a low rumbling echoing through the halls. Somewhere far off, Lance heard a muffled _boom_ , followed by another and another. The sound became louder in succession, creeping closer and closer, the floor quaking below their feet, the ship tipping too and froe.

“Lance,” Keith said, edging towards the wheel. “I don’t know about you, but I think we best get going.”

“Right behind you,” Lance said, heading to the bridge and checking to see if any of the screens were in working order. None of them was switching on.

“Shit, we’re gonna have to hot hire this thing,” Lance said. “Coran? How much time do we have?”

“Until the entire planet blows up? I’d say about thirty doboshes.”

“And until this room blows up?” Keith asked between gritted teeth.

“Uh,” Coran said, his face drooping. “Ten doboshes if we’re lucky.”

A resounding _BOOM!_ went off far too close for comfort, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

Coran winced.

“Make that five.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explosions, duels (of wit) and Pidge is an angry birb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know if I'm totally happy with this but it was midnight when I finally started doing the final edit so... let's see how this goes.

Keith was underneath the bridge’s control counter, trying to make sense of the mess of wires that were _everywhere_. He could understand now why Pidge had gotten so frustrated back on the Laith. Did engineers not understand the concept of colour coding? Or maybe using symbols Keith could actually read?

“Keith! Anytime would nice!” Lance yelled as he swung down from the main mast. He and Coran had unfurled the sails and made sure the rigging was set while Keith got the ship up and running. Or at least, that was supposed to be the idea.

“I’m working on it!” Keith yelled. He racked his brains, thinking back to the Garrison. If the central command links were _here_ then the turbo thrusters are _there_ , meaning the main engine is –

Keith took out his dagger, using it to cut away at the wires’ plastic coverings so he could access the filaments. Once he twisted them together and secured it with a scrap piece of material courtesy of Zarkon’s tattered shirt he sat with bated breath. Every second passing was a step closer to their death a la explosion so if this didn’t work then they were in deep shit.

Lance tugged at Keith’s feet, drawing him out from under the control panel.

“Keith, this isn’t working. Maybe if we make a break for it then –”

A low whirring started up, followed by creaks and clacks, like cogs clicking into place. The screens lit up in dull purples and reds. Keith felt the ship lift into the air as the engines started.

“And we have lift off,” Keith grinned as Lance helped him to his feet. He started towards the wheel then stopped. He turned to Lance. “After you,” he said.

Lance startled. “Keith, no, you –”

“Lance, we’re about to explode, I recommend you take the wheel.”

Lance nodded, running to the wheel. “Right, you’re right. Coran?”

Coran straightened his back, giving Lance a salute. “Yes, Captain?”

“Where’s the hatch you talked about?”

“Well, it should be, ah ha!”

Coran pointed passed the nose of the ship. Keith watched as two panels in the wall slid apart, creating a doorway for the ship. The inside halls lit up, guiding the way.

“Alright! Hold on tight, gents,” Lance said, rolling back his shoulders and adjusting his grip on the wheel. He looked confident like he was meant to be there.

_He is,_ Keith thought with a smile.

Lance grinned. “This is gonna be one hell of a ride.”

Keith pulled down the lever that activated the thrusters, entrusting the rest to Lance.

They shot forward at lightning speed, rushing through the hatch and into the tunnel. Behind them, the hatch door closed just as a bright orange blaze engulfed the room they had occupied only seconds ago.

Lance whooped and yelled, steering them around tight corners with precision and skill any pilot would be jealous of. Keith stood in awe. Why the Garrison would send Lance home was beyond him. Lance was relishing every second of this, his grin full of certainty, his eyes dead set on the journey ahead of them.

“Keith! Lance!”

Keith looked down to the lower deck where Coran was holding fast to the railing of the stairs. “I don’t know how much fuel this ship has left. If we’re lucky, there should be enough to get us to the main chamber. From there, though, we might have to make a break for it on foot!”

Keith looked at Lance who shot a quick look back over his shoulder. They had the same thought.

_What about the gold._

“We’ll figure it out as we go along,” Keith said.

“Shouldn’t we try and plan something at least?” Lance called, before taking a sharp right. Keith tripped from the sudden jolt and scrabbled at the control panel for balance. “We don’t have time for that!” he yelled.

“But shouldn’t at least try! We still need to get back to the others with –”

_With the treasure._ Keith knew that was what Lance was thinking. Lance stumbled on his words but continued, “without dying a-and get off this planet before it explodes in less than… how many minutes, doboshes, whatever Coran?”

“Twenty doboshes,” Coran said, coming up to the helm and fiddling with the screens.

“ _Twenty doboshes!_ ” Lance screamed, panic evident in his voice. “We need to figure out a plan!”

Keith growled. “We don’t. Have. Time.”

Lance looked like he was about to argue when he flinched back, nearly losing his grip on the wheel. “Coran…”

Keith followed Lance’s line of sight and stopped short. A few meters down there was a dead end. The tunnel led to a dead end.

“There’s a shoot above, just before the wall!” Coran called in reassurance. He ran up the stairs, settling behind the controls while Lance remained at the wheel. “Get ready, I’m going to hit the boosters in ten, nine, eight –”

Lance gritted his teeth but steadied himself behind the wheel, preparing for the booster shot. Keith held fast onto the control panel, watching with wide eyes as they neared the dead end. He really hoped Coran was right about this, otherwise, they were going to become one with the wall.

“–two, one, NOW LANCE!”

Lance pulled on the wheel, directing the nose up as Coran pushed on the thrusters. The ship tilted up where, _yes!_ There was an opening in the ceiling leading to the main chamber. They shot through the shoot, Lance spinning the wheel so they faced the exit.

“Alright, Coran!” Lance yelled. “Now, let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Coran was about to hit the thrusters once more when they heard a wheeze. The boat jiggled, shook and stuttered. It began to dip lower and lower. They had run out of fuel.

“Jump lads!” Coran yelled as he ran to the railing. He leapt over the side, hitting the ramp in a tuck and roll.

Keith wasn’t as fast.

The ship hit the ramp dangerously close to the edge, skidding to a stop. It began to topple to the side.

“Keith!” Keith felt a hand clutch at his own before the ground disappeared from under his feet. Gold fell all around them, coins and jewels trickling like a waterfall over a cliff. They fell on top of Keith and Lance, each coin feeling like a bee sting. Lance held onto the wheel with one hand, Keith secured in the other as they dangled vertically. The ship was petering on the edge of the ramp, _this close_ to falling onto the lower level. Keith peered down only to find that the lower level was no more, the floor completely gone and in its place, miles upon miles of machinery and no visible bottom. Bursts of orange shot through the darkness, causing panels and lights to go tumbling down the pit. Just the slightest movement could tip the boat, and at this angle, if it did happen, not only would they go sailing into a bottomless pit, but they’d surely get crushed by the boat as well when they did eventually hit the bottom.

“Coran!” Keith yelled, looking for the Altean.

“Yes, I’m here!” he yelled, somewhere behind the ship.

“Get to the longboat and help the others!” Keith said. He felt his grip slipping in Lance’s. He scrabbled.

“I’ve got you, buddy!” Lance said, although his voice was strained. Keith could feel him shaking.

“I’m not leaving you boys!” Coran said.

“We’re not a priority!” Keith yelled. “Help the others! If we’re not back at the ship in time, leave without us!”

“Keith,” Lance grunted.

“That’s an order, Coran!” Keith exclaimed, ignoring Lance’s imploring look.

There was silence, then, “Aye sir.” Keith heard the fall of heavy footsteps on the ramp and spotted a head of orange hair running through the exit on the opposite end of the room. Coran disappeared behind the thin film and then, he was gone.

“Keith.”

Keith looked up. Lance was straining, Keith could tell by the beads of sweat dripping off his nose, his jaw tight with tension.

“I can’t hold on much longer.”

Keith looked about, trying to think. If they let go now, they’d both go tumbling into the pit, if they tried to manoeuvre around the ship, it would tip and they’d still fall into the pit. He was running out of options.

_Wait, what –_

He spotted a sliver of ramp off to the right, just big enough to grapple on to. If they could somehow sling themselves there and bolt out of the way, they might just make it before the ship tumbled over the edge.

“Lance, I’m going to climb up you.”

“What!?”

“Just, hold on a little longer.”

Keith gripped Lance’s forearm with his free hand, then, slowly, started climbing his way up Lance until he had a solid grip on the wheel. He kept as still as possible, holding his breath. The ship wiggled a little, but otherwise stayed put. For now.

Lance sighed in relief once he no longer had to bear Keith’s weight. They were both hanging by the wheel now and Keith could feel the ship teetering. They were running out of time.

“Lance,” Keith said. Lance met his eyes and Keith saw cold-stone fear. He could imagine he looked much the same. “Lance,” Keith said again. “You see that ledge over there?”

Lance looked where Keith indicated and nodded. “Yeah, I see it. It’s too far though.”

“Not if you get the right momentum.”

“Keith, if we swing from here, we’re gonna cause the ship to tip to fall! And it’s still too far, we can’t –”

“Lance. Look at me.” Lance turned his attention back to Keith, terror still dancing in his eyes. “Do you trust me?” Keith asked.

“You know I do,” Lance said, not missing a beat.

“Then on the count of three, let go.”

Lance’s eyes bulged, his jaw dropping. “Are you crazy?”

“Lance,” Keith said, trying to keep his words steady. His throat started closing, his palms going clammy. “Do you trust me?” he said, barely a whisper.

Lance hesitated then nodded.

“Okay,” Keith said. _You can do this._ “On the count of three.”

_Please let this work._

“One, two, three!”

Lance let go and Keith grabbed his hand. Swinging Lance back, he flung him towards the ledge. Lance flew through the air and landed on the ledge, legs dangling over the side. He scrambled up onto the ramp and turned to Keith. Disbelief consumed those blue, blue eyes.

“Keith!” he cried.

Keith gave him a solemn smile as the ship tipped forward, falling over the edge and down, down, down into the darkness.

 

***

 

Pidge’s eyes hurt. They’d stopped crying a half hour ago after the boats had come to a stop and Lotor lead Keith and the rest of his group away through the brush. A blast of blue light and a high-pitched whine played over and over in their head, the image of Rover spluttering in a heap on the floor burned to the back of their retinas. _It was only an automaton_ , the logical side of their brain reminded them. So then why did their chest hurt so much? Why was their stomach knotted and broiling?

_Because he was my friend. Just like how Keith is my friend._

Keith.

Keith could be the next to go.

Pidge felt a fresh spatter of tears dripping down their cheeks.

“Pidge?”

Pidge looked over their shoulder to find a cognitive Shiro sitting up slowly, leaning heavily on Hunk. If their hands weren’t tied behind their back, they would have clung to Shiro and never let go.

“Shiro,” Allura murmured.

Shiro sighed in relief. “Allura.”

Allura was still a little worse for wear, although she’d put up a good fight when they were being dragged to the longboats. Now she looked tired, her shoulders drooping, hair falling in burnished silver curtains around her face. She’d looked crushed. But when Shiro spoke her jewel-blue eyes lit up like a new dawn.

“I’m here,” Shiro said, leaning in until his forehead was pressed lightly against Allura’s. “I’m here,” he whispered.

“Pipe down!”

They all turned to Zethrid who was currently sitting near the nose of the boat, all their weapons tucked neatly under her seat. The boat was tipped heavily towards her side even though the rest of them were seated at the opposite end near the controls.

“It’s bad enough I’m missing all the fun, I don’t need some lovey-dovey reunion going on in the background too,” she grumbled.

Pidge glared at her before turning back to Shiro. They wiped their tears on their shoulders, scrubbing their cheeks raw.

“Shiro, it’s really good to see you,” they whispered, voice still water-logged.

“It’s good to see you too,” he said, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Where’s Keith and Lance?”

Pidge felt the tiny slither of happiness Shiro’s awakening had given die out. They looked away.

Hunk spoke up. “Lotor took them and Coran to go after the treasure.”

“Who’s Coran?” Shiro asked.

“It’s a long story,” Allura sighed. “Technically, he was my father’s advisor. He’d been marooned here for over a hundred years until Keith and Lance found him.”

Shiro’s brows scrunched in confusion. “Uh…”

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” Allura said. She leaned in, resting her head on Shiro’s shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Shiro’s lips tugged into a soft smile before he gave Allura’s temple a kiss. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“This is my fault,” Pidge said, raspy.

“Pidge –” Hunk started.

“No, it is,” they said. “For as long as I could remember, I’ve wanted to go on an adventure, like my dad and Matt. Matt was always going on about all the planets he’d visited and the different cultures and I… I wanted to be like him. I wanted to do that. And then Keith found the map and I hired this crew… It’s my fault Lotor even got on this ship.”

“Pidge,” Shiro said. “This isn’t your fault. No one is to blame.”

“But Keith and I knew Sendak was trouble!” Pidge burst out, their voice pitching. “We’d been warned and we didn’t tell you guys because we thought we could handle it ourselves. You nearly got killed, Shiro!”

Shiro winced but then took a deep breath and addressed Pidge. “Pidge, even though you did make mistakes, you have also proven yourself tenfold as an adventurer.”

“Yeah!” Hunk said. “What about the black hole? And disabling the canons?”

"The first was just me stating facts, Allura did the rest. The second was only after putting everyone's life at risk! Just admit it Hunk, I'm not good enough!"

They hung their head in their hands, gritting back another bout of tears.

“Pidge…”

“No, Hunk! Just stop it!”

“Pidge,” Shiro said, knocking his boot with theirs.

“What!”

Shiro indicated to Pidge’s hands with a pointed look.

Pidge looked down. Their bindings had been tied to imitate handcuffs, but it seemed Zethrid hadn’t considered the fact that Pidge had unnaturally scrawny wrists. They grinned up at the rest of the group, an idea beginning to brew. They turned around and faced Zethrid properly, hiding their hands behind their back.

“Hey!”

Zethrid ignored Pidge or perhaps didn’t hear them. She looked rather occupied with picking at her teeth with her pinkie-claw.

Pidge tried again. “Hey you, big ears!”

Zethrid paused and turned her steely-eyed gaze at Pidge.

“Yeah, you.”

“Pidge,” Hunk started, voice trembling.

Pidge waved him off.

“Tell me,” Pidge said, “Don’t you ever feel self-conscious?”

Zethrid bore her teeth is a sneer. “Why would I be self-conscious? I am the strongest out of all of you. I could crush your skull between my thighs!” she barked, her chest rumbling with laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool and all,” Pidge said, rolling their eyes exaggeratedly, “but don’t you feel bad about your head?”

Zethrid stopped mid-chortle. “My head?”

“Well, yeah. You know,” Pidge said.

Zethrid glowered at Pidge, all humour gone. “Know what.”

“That it’s too small for your body,” Pidge said with an innocent shrug. They turned back to the rest of the group, keeping their hands out of sight. “Don’t you guys agree?”

“Pidge!” Hunk said, voice cracking.

Pidge widened their eyes, eyebrows creeping up to their hairline. “ _Don’t you guys agree_ ,” they tried again.

Shiro was the first to catch on.

“Ah, yes. Pidge is right.” He nudged Allura, gently, on the shoulder.

“Oh yes, absolutely,” Allura said, nodding sagely. She gave Zethrid an apologetic look. “So sorry to tell you. We thought you knew.”

Hunk looked agitated, his eyes shifting between his three friends. Pidge gave him a look and he finally gave in.

“Yeah, way too small,” he said, chuckling nervously.

Pidge turned back to find a seething Zethrid. Her fur had puffed up, ears twitching and nose flaring. It reminded Pidge of a peeved-off cat. _Perfect._

Zethrid rose out of her seat, fists clenched at her sides. “What did you say?” she ground out.

“I said that your tiny head is disproportional to your too-big body,” Pidge proclaimed with a sniff. “It’s my honest opinion and it just so happens that I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Zethrid took a step towards Pidge, then another. “Say that again. To my face.” Zethrid had to bend over double to meet Pidge eye to eye. Her breath was hot on Pidge’s face and smelled of rotten eggs. Pidge didn’t hide their wince.

“Sheesh, beasty, could you at least cover your mouth?”

Zethrid snapped.

With a roar, she lunged forward, making to grab Pidge by the throat. Pidge dove between her legs, dodging her by a millisecond and scrabbled for their bayard. They got it and, twisting around, sent the grappling hook Zethrid’s way. It wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides. Zethrid struggled against the bindings, trying to get free. Pidge gave her a wicked grin.

“Nighty night.”

With a push of a button, Pidge sent a bolt of electricity Zethrid’s way. Zethrid howled in pain then, just as quickly, she stopped, her body freezing up. She groaned as she fell backwards, landing on Hunk’s lap. She lay there, unmoving, the smell of singed fur tinting the air.

“Well done Pidge!” Allura exclaimed.

“Quite the performance,” Shiro said with a proud smile.

“Uh, guys?”

Everyone turned to Hunk who was squirming underneath Zethrid’s weight.

“Can we maybe get the drooling giantess off my lap, please and thanks?”

Pidge retracted their grappling hook and used the blade to cut away everyone's bindings. It took all four of them to shove Zethrid off Hunk’s lap and over the side of the boat. Just in case, they used an entire reel of rope to tie Zethrid up.

“Okay,” Pidge said, dusting off their hands. “What next?”

“Princess!”

Coran came stumbling through the tubular plants, sprinting to them.

“Coran!” Allura exclaimed, eyes brightening. She looked like she was about to launch herself across the boat when Shiro settled a hand around her waist.

“Not so fast, you’re still hurt.”

Allura huffed. She grumbled something under her breath but stayed put.

“Coran, what’s going on?” Hunk asked.

“Well, uh. Let’s just say, booby traps have been set off and we have about fifteen doboshes before the entire planet explodes.”

“WHAT!” everyone yelled in unison.

“Yes, I know, it’s quite a shock, but we need to get back to the Laith. If we all –”

“Wait,” Pidge said, holding their hands up. “Where’s Keith and Lance?”

Coran frowned. “I’m sorry number four,” he said. “Keith sent me to you. He said your safety was a priority.”

Pidge froze. “You’re telling me that you left them back there with a ticking time bomb!” they screeched. They couldn’t believe this. Out of all the stupid, stubborn-headed things Keith had ever done, this was the cherry on top. Screw that, it was the entire fucking cake.

“If we get back to the Laith in time then we should be able to pick them up on the way off the planet. But that’s only if we get going now!” Coran said, his tone clipped and to the point.

Pidge felt like they were about to boil over. A retort was on the tip of their tongue when they felt a heavy hand settle on their shoulder. They looked up to find a stern Shiro, his eyes slate grey. “Pidge, Coran is right. The sooner we get to the Laith, the sooner we can save Keith and Lance.”

Pidge looked around the group. They could see that their minds were already made up. It was just Pidge holding them back.

Pidge gave a frustrated growl. If they had their own way they’d be steering a longboat up Lotor’s ass right about now. But Shiro was right, they needed to be practical. They only had so much time.

“Alright,” Pidge said. “But we are not leaving this planet without them.”

“Damn straight,” Shiro said with a twinkle in his eye. “Coran, are you alright to fly?”

“More than,” Coran said, letting Hunk pull him up into the boat and settling behind the controls.

Shiro gave Pidge a grin. “Then let’s get going.”

 

***

 

Keith was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to laying at the bottom of a pit crushed under Zarkon’s ship and instead he was dangling at the edge held up by a smug looking Lance.

“Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily,” Lance grunted.

“Lance,” Keith gasped. How did he –

“Listen, man, I’m all for touching reunions but can you help me help you onto safe ground instead of dangling off a cliff first?”

“Right.”

Keith gripped onto the lip of the railing, hoisting himself up with Lance’s help until he was lying flat on his back, well away from the edge. He clutched at his chest as it rose and fell in heavy breaths, checking that he was still intact. The bruises from his and Lotor’s brawl were still raw, the cuts stinging, but otherwise all his vital organs and limbs were in place.

Lance’s head popped up above him, worry etched in the furrow of his brow.

“You okay?”

Keith nodded. “Thanks to you.”

Lance offered him a hand, which Keith took. He shakily stood to his feet. Lance patted him down, checking for any scuffs or scrapes. When he seemed satisfied he punched Keith hard in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Keith yelled, clutching the sore spot. “What the hell was that for?”

“For sacrificing yourself to save me, dumbass. You could have gotten killed!” Lance yelled, lips pinched into a thin line.

“But at least you would have been safe!” Keith yelled in return.

“But you’d be dead!” Lance said his voice breaking. “And I’m sorry, but that’s not happening.” He shrunk back, ducking his head. “Not if I can help it.”

There were so many things Keith wanted to say, but none of the words seemed right. Words were never his forte, he’d always been an action-guy. Do first, think later.

He clutched the front of Lance’s shirt, bringing him close. Their noses bumped.

“Lance –”

“Ah, such a happy reunion! I wish I had my camera.”

Keith turned, dagger already in hand, as he came face to face with Lotor. He pushed Lance behind him, shielding him. Lance didn’t have a weapon, and besides, he was better at long range. This was Keith’s domain.

“Shouldn’t you be saving your precious Quintessence?” Keith snarled. He felt Lance tug at the back of his shirt. He ignored it.

Lotor’s smile fell. “Yes, about that.” He took a step forward. Keith shifted, widening his stance to better cover Lance.

“You took the last remaining ship and dropped it into a bottomless pit,” Lotor said, his eyes narrowing. His pupils dilated into slits, like a cat’s. “And with that, took my only hope of fulfilling my plan.”

Keith shifted his gaze, searching for the rest of Lotor’s crew. Ezor could camouflage herself, so she could be anywhere. The last he’d seen of Acxa and Narti they were locked out of the ship bay, but they were also both stealthy. He needed to stay on his guard.

“And what about your girls?” Keith asked, trying to buy time. They probably had less than ten minutes until the planet exploded, but a lot could happen in ten minutes. Keith’s eyes flickered to the orb in the center of the room. It was pulsating with an angry red glow. By the looks of it, Keith had a feeling that was the finishing touch to Zarkon’s little firework show.

Lotor’s nose flared, his lips pulling back to reveal fangs. “Your little stunt cost them their lives!”

“Oh, Lotor,” Keith said, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you almost cared for them.”

“Keith now’s not really the time for sarcasm,” Lance muttered.

Keith blew his bangs out of his eyes, wincing a little when the cut on his nose pulled. All his cuts and blows were slowly awakening, making their presence known loud and clear. Keith took deep breaths, trying to focus on Lotor rather than the pain.

“Oh Keith,” Lotor said, mockingly. He withdrew a cutlass from the holster on his hip, letting the metal scrape in one long, drawn-out shriiiing. “I really do.”

“Keith!”

One minute, Lance’s body was pressed at Keith’s back, the next he felt nothing but emptiness. He looked over his shoulder, trying to keep an eye on Lotor while watching Lance being pulled away by a floating blaster. Ezor appeared, smiling coyly as she pressed the barrel to Lance’s head.

Keith snarled, facing Lotor once more.

He should have known better. He should have trusted his gut, should have told Lance to run and leave him with Lotor. He should have –

Focus.

Patience yields focus.

“So how does this work?” Keith asked, keeping his dagger raised and paying Ezor no mind. It meant turning away from Lance but he’d have to in order for this to work.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you expecting me to drop my weapon to save Lance’s ass?”

“Keith?”

Keith kept his poker face, ignoring the desperation in Lance’s voice.

Please understand, please understand.

“Yes,” Lotor said, swinging his cutlass around in well-practised arcs. “That’s it exactly. Unless.”

“Unless?”

“Unless you wish to join our little band of half-breeds?”

Interesting.

Keith cocked his head to the side, arching a brow. “Go on.”

The corner of Lotor’s lips twitched. “You’ve shown a lot of promise Keith, just like your mother did. It would be a shame for such skill to go to waste.”

“Keith! Keith, don’t do this.”

“Pipe down,” Ezor said. Keith heard metal meet bone, heard Lance gasp in pain.

No.

Keith shot around like a whip. He was about to launch his knife through the air, let it settle in Ezor’s chest where it belonged. But Ezor was using Lance’s crumpled form as a shield. He was bleeding at the temple. Keith stopped his hand at the last second. He sneered at Ezor, baring his teeth. She shrugged.

“Guess we both broke our promises.”

“Make this easy on yourself Keith,” Lotor said. He was a lunge-distance away, still playing with his sword as if it were made of wood rather than steel. “Give me the knife and your lover boy may go.”

Keith knew it was a lie. But Lance’s eyes were blinking open, his pupils dilated to pin-pricks from panic. Ezor clicked the safety off her blaster, smiling all the while.

He’d lost. Lotor had beaten him not once, but twice. And they were so close, the exit a sprint away.

If only Lance had left him behind. If only Keith hadn’t revealed his feelings towards him, then Lotor wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Lance would be safe with the others, heading home to his family, treasure or no treasure. At least he’d be safe.

Keith flipped his dagger, offering up the handle for Lotor.

“Take it,” he said. “I don’t care what you do to me, just let Lance go.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Lotor purred, reaching for the handle.

The dagger glowed. Keith nearly dropped it in shock; but he held fast, watching as the blade elongated into a sword. It was an arm’s length, the glow of the insignia on the handle running all the way down the blade’s length, creating a bright blue vein. The handle also elongated, giving Keith a better grip as he flipped the sword around. It felt natural as if it were moulded for his hand and his hand only.

He lunged, didn’t flinch as he cut a deep arc through Lotor’s chest.

“Lance, duck.”

Keith saw Lotor’s body crumpling to the floor in his peripheral vision as he swung around, flinging the sword tip over tail. It struck Ezor’s chest where moments ago, Lance had been standing.

Ezor staggered, looking down at the sword protruding from her chest. She looked up, eyes wide in shock. Keith walked over and, gripping the handle tightly, twisted it before pulling it out.

There was a sickening squelch sound and then Ezor fell back, blood seeping through her white blouse at a rapid pace. By the time she hit the floor, Keith had already grabbed Lance by the arm and was leading him to the exit.

“K-Keith,” Lance stammered, struggling to keep up as Keith started running. “You, you just, you kill–”

“No way in hell I was going to let them lay another finger on you,” Keith said, looking Lance dead in the eye. His hands were shaking, chest sputtering. He could feel his heart thrumming at the back of his throat.

_I just killed two people._

Lance came to a halt. Keith stopped as well Lance stepped in closer, cupping Keith’s face in his hands. “You’re an idiot,” he breathed, “and we’re discussing this later, but right now we’ve gotta –”

As if on cue, an explosion went off on the opposite end of the room, sending a great gust of warm air to swarm around them.

Keith nodded, grabbing Lance’s hand in his. “And I’m still looking forward to that kiss,” he said, the words tumbling from his mouth.

Lance gaped at him but said nothing more as Keith pulled him through the doorway and out onto the other side.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to escape imminent death is tiring to say the very least.

Keith and Lance tripped through the entrance, landing in a sprawl on the other side. Lance helped Keith up, holding his hand a little longer than was probably necessary. Keith squeezed Lance’s hand in thanks. He needed all the strength he could get right now.

Keith still had his new-found sword in hand. It was dripping with purple-black blood. Keith winced, wiping the blade clean on his pants leg. _Not now._

He didn't really know what to do with it. It was too big to put in his sheath and didn't retract like his bayard. At the thought, it glowed, shrinking back into a dagger once more. _Well that’s convenient._ Keith hummed in approval, sheathing his dagger before turning to Lance.

“There should still be a longboat left,” he said. “If we hurry, we might be able to meet up with the others before –”

“Keith! Lance!”

Keith looked up, shielding his eyes against the blazing white-and-azure vision that was the Laith.

“Thank the stars,” Lance said, already running to the rope ladder being lowered. Keith was right behind him.

“Hurry boys!” Coran said. He held up a tablet, the screen lit up bright blue with the image of what looked like a stopwatch. “We’ve got exactly two hundred and thirty-four ticks until mass destruction!”

Lance scampered up the last few rungs, helping Keith over the railing. Pidge was behind the control panel at the bridge along with Hunk, both helping Coran man the thrusters and keep everything in check. Allura was sitting on the floor, clutching her side but still managing well enough to yell orders. Shiro was behind the wheel.

“Shiro!” Keith yelled, running to him. When he came up to the wheel, he stopped, unsure about what exactly he was planning to do. Hug him? Shake his hand?

Shiro made up his mind for him. He gave Keith a blinding smile and, slinging his arm around Keith’s shoulders, gave him a quick side hug before turning back to the wheel.

“Good to see you too,” he said.

“Woah.” Lance’s eyes were wide with awe. He was leaning over the side of the boat, staring at the ground below. Keith joined him.

The planet was splitting apart, following the markings of the map to the T. Laser beams shot out from the cracks sporadically, large chunks of metal dislodged and floating mid-air, soaring past their heads at high speed. The portal to a thousand worlds was becoming a thin slice of yellow in the distance.

Woah indeed.

“Head’s up!” Hunk yelled.

Keith turned, watching as a piece of debris the size of a small spacecraft flew through the main mast, cutting it clean in half. The mast fell with a low moan, collapsing onto Varkon’s laser cannon and crushing it like an ant under a boot. The sail lost all its colour, fading into a dull white.

Keith felt the ship hiccup. He looked over the side. The thrusters were sputtering, a snuffed-out flame compared to the rocket blast they needed.

“Missile tail demobilized, Princess!” Coran yelled, tapping away on his tablet.

“Thrusters at only thirty percent,” Pidge said.

“Thirty percent? That means…” Shiro’s face dropped. “We’ll never clear the planet’s explosion in time.”

Everyone shared a look. Hopelessness dragged their eyes to the floor, their mouths into frowns.

Keith looked back to the portal once more. He could still see it, just barely, it was still there; a shining beacon. Searching the deck, he spotted the blaster of the cannon, the center still glowing like the cherry of a cigarette. He ran to it, checking its canisters. There were three shells left.

“Turn around!” Keith yelled.

“What?” Shiro said.

“There’s a portal back there!” Keith said. He pulled at a loose panel from the canon, ripping it away. It was his height in length, just wide enough for him to stand on. It would have to do.

“From what I can see, that portal opens up to a raging inferno!” Hunk exclaimed.

“Yes, but I can change that!” Keith said. “I’m going to open a different door!”

“Keith, you genius!” Lance yelled. He ran up to the bridge, addressing Allura. “He’s right, Captain. A click of a button and we’re out of here.”

Shiro and Allura shared a look. They must have come to a silent agreement because Shiro gave a quick nod. “Alright. Lance, take the wheel.”

“What?!”

Shiro stepped away, already running down the stairs to the lower deck. Lance took hold of the wheel, taking a deep steadying breath. “Alright everybody, hold on!” He spun the wheel, cutting a sharp U-turn to change the ship’s course back to the portal.

“One dobosh and twenty-nine ticks until planet destruction!” Coran called.

Keith lugged the canon booster onto the back of his make-shift board, trying to find a piece of rope long enough to secure it.

Shiro came skidding down the deck, landing on his knees next to Keith. “What do you need?” he panted.

“I need to attach this somehow,” Keith said, pointing at the canon blaster. “Maybe if –”

Shiro didn’t let him finish. “Stand back,” he said.

Keith did so.

Shiro rolled up his right sleeve, exposing his bionic arm. He flicked his hand and like a light switch, it glowed; a harsh blaze of purple light. He brought his hand to the canon blaster, causing bright white sparks to ignite as he began welding it to the board.

Keith gawked. “Holy shit. I didn’t know you could do that!” he said, watching in awe as Shiro finished the job.

“I’m not one for showing off,” Shiro said, blowing a tuft of white fringe out of his eyes. “Now help me get this thing up.”

Together, they placed the board on their shoulders, heaving it up so it rested on the bannister. Shiro held it steady as Keith climbed aboard.

“Shiro,” Keith said, catching his eye. “No matter what happens, keep the ship heading straight for that portal.”

Shiro’s eyes widened, his lips parting. Coran’s call of “Fifty-eight ticks!” rung in the background.

Shiro became solemn, his mouth a firm line. “I’m proud of you, Keith,” he said before stepping back from Keith’s board and out of range of the blaster. Keith gave him one final look before turning to his task. He leaned forward, willing the board to tip overboard as he pressed down on the lever. The first shell clicked into place and Keith was off.

This wasn’t like his solar surfer where the board held fast to the metal plating in his industrial boots through magnetism. One false step and Keith would go flying off the board. He lowered his stance, willing his body to be as streamlined as possible. The less wind resistance the better.

He could see the ship in his peripheral vision. He pushed forward.

Laser blasts and metal jigsaw pieces were in his way, but Keith used them to his advantage. He skidded along the hunks of floating metal, creating sparks on his tail as he used the friction to heat up the blaster.

Once the first shell’s firepower ran out, he kicked the lever, setting off the next blast. He dipped down until he was nearly scraping the planet’s surface where there was less wind resistance but also more obstacles. He wove between the crags and crevices that rose and fell in a random rhythm. He tugged to the left, narrowly missing a large bluff that appeared out of nowhere. Angling his board, Keith clutched the side to hold his balance as he scraped along the wall of steel. Another wave of sparks burnt at his heels.

The Laith was right behind him, Lance keeping up effortlessly. He wove the boat between the obstacles as if he were a fish in water.

“Twenty-five ticks!” Coran yelled.

Keith struck the lever with his heel, activating the final blast. Only the lever stopped halfway. He looked over his shoulder, down at the booster. The clutch was jammed.

“No!” he yelled. The board dipped in a lazy arc, riding on momentum only as he began to sail down into a cavern. Keith felt heat consume him. He looked over the edge of the board. The ground below was covered in what Keith could only describe as lava, except it was a deep neon purple. Just like the Quintessence.

The board began to spiral, dropping lower and lower.

“Come on!” Keith said, hitting the lever over and over to no prevail. It was jammed, the final shell left lying in the barrel, useless.

Keith looked around him, trying to find something, anything that he could grab onto. The walls on either side of him were slick, perfectly smooth.

The heat was becoming unbearable.

“Seventeen ticks!”

Keith gritted his teeth. There was one last option, a stupid idea that may or may not work. But what did he have to lose?

_Everything,_ he realised.

Keith jumped, swivelling the board around so that the canon blaster scraped against the wall. Sparks flew into his eyes but he held fast, clutching his board for dear life. The blaster turned red-hot at the friction. Keith felt the clutch give in and finally, the shell was set off. The engine lit aflame, and Keith shot up like a rocket, soaring through the air at a whirlwind speed. He clutched at the nose of the board, bending low and praying that he wouldn’t fall off.

The ship sailed across the cavern above his head, continuing its one-way journey to the portal door.

“Seven!”

Keith breeched the cavern edge, doing a quick summersault to righten himself.

“Six!”

He leaned forward, willing his booster to _go harder, shoot me faster._

“Five!”

He flew past the ship.

“Four!”

_Come on, come on, come on!_

“Three!”

He reached.

“Two!”

_Nearly there._

“One!”

He clicked the crescent moon, heard a small _blip_. The portal blinked, opening to reveal a wide expanse of stars. Dead ahead was none other than the Galaxy Garrison Space Port. It was calm.

Keith shot through the portal, the ship not too far behind. Bursts of orange and purple licked at the quarter-deck, but no one cared because _they’d made it_. They were safe. Keith heard whoops of joy, heard Lance crow and Pidge squeal, all of them cheering in celebration. Keith circled the ship, brushing his fingers along the bottom of the boat. Doing a spiral turn, he flew above the deck, giving Pidge a high-five along the way. He tipped his board, angling the nose so he could shoot up the length of what remained of the main mast. He pumped his fist, calling a loud “WE DID IT!” as he flew through the air. He looked back to the portal. His celebration snuffed out like a candle.

The portal was expanding, the triangle extending into a thin line. It kept stretching and stretching until there was nothing left. Silence, then, a great big _BOOM!_ Clouds of scarlet red, sunset yellow, viridian, gold, indigo, violet all mixed together to create a blinding white light. Keith shielded his eyes against the light, shutting his eyes tightly in fear of going blind.

“Keith!”

One minute he was balancing on his board, soaring above the Laith, the next he was falling. Falling, falling, falling.

He heard shouts and screams, words that sounded like his name but he couldn’t be sure. His heart was thumping in his eardrums like a tribal chant, blocking everything out. He knocked into something hard, could feel something sharp lodge deep into his shoulder. He cried out, at least, he thought he did. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything.

He was expecting to crash through the deck, maybe even shoot through the other side at how fast he was going, but something soft yet sturdy enveloped him. He felt cotton under his fingertips and silky hair brush his cheeks.

Everything was muffled, blurs between blacks, whites and grey. He closed his eyes.

_Just five more minutes, dad._

He sunk into the darkness, welcoming its warm embrace.

 

***

 

_It was cold. So cold._

_Moving hurt. Moving was impossible. I can’t move. I can’t feel my fingers, can’t wiggle my toes. Do I even still have toes? Does it matter?_

_Am I awake, or am I sleeping?_

_Or am I dead?_

_“He’s been in there for days, Allura! Shouldn’t he have popped out by now?”_

_“Not quite. It depends on the person and the injury. And besides, these pods haven’t been in use for quite some time.”_

Lance?

_“Isn’t there an eject button or something?”_

_“I know you’re concerned, as are we all, but give him time. His body was under a lot of strain, more than the rest of us combined.”_

_Body? I still have a body?_

“Okay, okay. How much longer though?”

“He should be out by the end of the day.”

_Time. Time is still a thing. Am I awake, or am I sleeping? Maybe both._

Open your eyes.

_I can’t. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t feel anything. Am I even breathing?_

_“Fine. Then I’ll wait here for him.”_

_“Lance, I don’t think –”_

_“I’ll wait.”_

_Thank you. Thank you_

Lance?

_Thank you, thank you_

Can you hear me?

_thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou_

Lance? Lance, it’s so cold. I can’t move. Am I alive? Are you?

Lance I –

_thank you_

 

***

 

His chest contracted. He breathed, ice settling in his lungs with each shaky breath. He couldn’t hold himself up, couldn’t stop himself from falling. He didn’t.

“I’ve got you, buddy.”

“Lance?”

“Yeah man.”

_Warm. He’s so warm._

Arms wrapped around his waist, secure and strong. Keith blinked, then blinked some more, caught in that weird state between awake and asleep. He was awake, right?

“Yeah, you’re awake,” Lance chuckled.

“Did I say that out loud?”

Another chuckle. “Yeah, but it’s cool. I’m just glad you can speak, means you’re actually, well, alive.”

Keith’s feet were numb, pins and needles creeping up his calves and causing his knees to buckle.

“Oh-kay, aaand we’re sitting down.” Lance guided Keith down onto the floor, which was a seat, which was a stair.

“Where are we?” Keith asked. His tongue felt swollen.

“We’re in the healing chamber,” Lance said. He was rubbing soothing circles on Keith’s back. Keith arched into the touch.

“Wassit where they kept Shiro?” Keith mumbled, still lost in the comfort of Lance’s touch.

Lance coughed, but he didn’t stop the circles which was good. It felt nice; relaxing.

“Uh, ahem, yeah. Do you, do you remember what happened?”

Keith straightened up, thinking back. “I fell," he said.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Lance said. Keith turned his head, meeting Lance’s gaze for the first time since the cold had stopped. Lance blinked at him, his eyelashes feather-light, eyes wide with worry but all Keith could think was

_Blue. Super blue._

Keith breathed in deeply. He blinked and everything came into focus. The entire room was slate grey, save for the blue crystal lamps that hung on the walls. The light was low, meaning it was probably night time.

Keith scrubbed at his eyes, getting rid of the sleep dust that stuck to his eyelashes. “What time is it?” he said, voice clearer. He felt better now, more alert.

Lance stopped the soothing circles, retracting his hand slowly. “Probably just after midnight,” he said. He leaned onto his knees with his forearms, tilting his head to find Keith’s eyes.

“You awake now? For real, I mean.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah. Anything I just said up until now was under the influence of whatever that –” he waved at the pod behind them, “runs on. So, forget what just happened.”

Lance snickered. “Balmeran crystal energy, apparently,” he said, looking back at the pod admiringly. “And Altean magic type… stuff.”

Keith sent him a questioning look.

“Allura gave us a rundown on how she and the last remaining Altean ship known to all-kind managed to survive a war from over a hundred years ago,” Lance said with a shrug. No biggie. “Her dad, King Alfor, stuck her into one of the pods like Coran and she only woke up three years ago. Her ship was docked on some planet called Arus. Shiro was the one who found her.”

Keith shook his head. “No, no Shiro only met Allura after he came back from the Galra prison –”

“Is what he told everyone,” Lance said, raising a finger. “Allura asked him not to tattle on her. She wanted to start over, clean slate, ya know?”

“Then what did Shiro tell the rest of the crew?”

“That Allura had been stranded there for a week cause her ship broke down.” Lance scratched his head. “He wasn’t wrong. The Laith was barely-functioning. I’m surprised the cryopod still worked.”

“So, she really is a princess of a lost civilization?”

“Yep.”

Keith rubbed at his temples. This was a lot to process. He wrinkled his nose, waiting for the cut to sting, to ground him. It didn’t.

Keith touched his nose, feeling all the way across to his cheek. The cuts were gone, his nose no longer broken. He looked down, patting his chest for bruises. Nothing, except some weird beige unitard which did not look becoming.

“I don’t feel anything.”

“As in no more bumps and bruises or as in literally nothing?” Lance asked, giving Keith’s shoulder a poke. Keith slapped his hand away.

“As in I’m fully healed,” Keith grumbled.

Lance cradled his hand to his chest, pouting a little. “Well thank the stars for that seeing as you got impaled by a gigantic splinter.”

Keith stopped, turned to fully face Lance. “Excuse me?”

Lance rubbed the back of his neck. He averted his gaze, voice suddenly gone quiet. “You fell nearly three stories down, Keith. You knocked into the main mast, some of the broken wood splintered off and you managed to get it lodged in your shoulder. A few centimeters to the left and it could have gone through your chest.” Lance shuddered, but kept going, “Shiro caught you, thank the stars, and then we shoved you into a cryopod.”

Keith couldn’t breathe.

He clawed along the collar of his suit, looking for a button, a clasp, something.

Without a word, Lance leaned over and clicked something at the nape of Keith’s neck. Keith felt the collar slacken, the suit splitting down his back all the way to his waist as if it were being cut with a pair of scissors. With shaking hands, Keith tugged the suit down from his shoulders. It wasn’t hard to miss. A large scar decorated Keith’s left shoulder, a bullet wound the size of a fist. It was jagged around the edges. It reminded him of the old illustrations of Earth’s sun, flames licking all the way around the surface. He fingered the scar tissue idly.

“How long was I in there?” Keith whispered.

“Three days, give or take,” Lance whispered back.

Keith shucked the suit off his arms completely, letting it pool around his waist. It was too restricting. He wanted out of this damn unitard but he didn’t see any of his clothes lying around. He shivered as the cool air settled on his skin, causing gooseflesh to spread like fire. He watched as the hairs on his arms rose.

“Here,” Lance said. He shrugged off his coat, draping it over Keith’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Keith breathed, slipping his arms through the sleeves, clutching it tightly to his chest. He felt the soft cotton under his fingers, wishing it were leather.

“My jacket –”

“Is where you left it,” Lance said, “still hanging up by your hammock.

Right. The day Rover stole his shoe. It felt like eons ago.

“It’s my mother’s.”

“Really?”

Keith hummed. “That and the dagger.”

“Slash sword,” Lance said. “How did you do that by the way?”

Keith huffed. “No clue.”

Silence hung between them, it wasn’t awkward but not entirely comfortable either. A grey area. Just like them.

Keith tried to think back, tried to put the events in order. The elation of finding Shiro, the immediate guilt when he’d fallen right into Lotor’s hands, the disappointment of realising Treasure Planet’s fabled gold really was a fairy tale, the fear of losing his friends, of being crushed to death, the heartache Lance’s pain had caused him. The emptiness after cutting through Lotor and Ezor like they were made of tissue paper.

Keith swallowed hard past the rising bile in his throat. “Lance, about… About what happened with Lotor and Ezor –”

Lance brought a finger to Keith’s lips, silencing him. “We don’t have to talk about that right now.”

Keith caught Lance’s hand in his own, lowering it. “But we said later. This is later.”

“I also said I’d kiss you but that hasn’t happened yet.” Lance’s eyes widened in shock of his own forwardness, his cheeks blooming red. He ducked his head. Keith did the same.

_That just happened. That _actually_ just happened. _

Keith felt Lance’s hand twitch in his own. He didn’t let go. Instead, he wove their fingers together, pressing their hands palm to palm. Lance’s hand was fire where Keith’s was ice.

_The tables have turned._

Keith peeked out from under his bangs. Lance’s cheeks were still glowing red.

_Cute._

“Is this a thing?” Lance asked, jiggling their hands but not letting go.

“I don’t know,” Keith said. “Can it be?”

“I don’t know.”

Quiet.

Lance took back his hand, albeit reluctantly. His thumb grazed slowly across Keith’s palm, leaving a trail of fire behind. Keith swallowed a gasp.

“Do you want some tea?” Lance asked.

“Yes,” Keith breathed.

Lance reached behind him where there was an entire tea tray lying in wait. He dragged it between them, spreading his hands. “Ta-da.”

The tray was silver, with a porcelain teapot and two cups. A pitcher of milk and a cup of sugar sat to the side along with two spoons and, to top it all off, a plate of biscuits.

“I feel like I’m having tea with the queen or something,” Keith said.

“Yeah, Hunk insisted,” Lance said, chuckling nervously.

“Remind me to thank him,” Keith said as he reached for the pot. Lance’s sleeves were a little long, the cuffs brushing his knuckles. He had to resist the urge to bundle further into Lance’s coat, into the smell of vanilla essence and salt water.

He did his usual routine, filling half of the cup with tea and topping it with enough milk that it nearly spilt over the sides. He slurped, catching the milk on his tongue.

Lance raised a brow, busy pouring himself his own cup.

“Don’t judge me,” Keith said with a scowl.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” Keith said as he reached for the sugar. He didn’t bother with the spoon, pouring the sugar straight from the cup.

“You sure you’ve got enough tea to go with your sugar?” Lance asked, hiding a snigger behind his hand.

“Just about,” Keith said.

He froze.

A boy in the middle of the night, moonlight, locked cupboards and barely audible, _good night’s._

It was years ago. A one-time passing with another sleepless boy. He’d never even told Pidge about the incident. It felt too personal. He’d been afraid he’d dreamt the boy up, a shadow-boy amongst the shadows, omnipresent. And when he’d stepped into the moonlight… by the stars, it had taken everything in Keith’s power not to drop his cup of tea from sheer awe. The boy’s freckles stood out like a sore thumb, a small scar on his temple shining silver. His teeth glistened in a mischievous, milk-white smile. The corners of his eyes danced with mirth. But, there was also something sad about him, something Keith knew the look of all too well. Loneliness. It had made Keith’s chest hurt, to see someone so beautiful also be equally sad. He always regretted not asking the boy’s name, for not staying longer, talking a little more, but at the time it felt like he’d been intruding on something, something special and sacred. He’d never seen the boy again, no matter how hard he looked in the hallways and in his classes. No one resembled the fairy – Keith never believed in fairy tales, but that boy was made of magic, it was the only explanation. It was the only plausible answer Keith could think of. Until now.

_Got enough tea to go with your sugar?_

“That was you,” Keith said.

“What was me?” Lance asked, taking the sugar from Keith and placing it back on the tray.

“That night, at the Garrison. I couldn’t sleep so I went to make tea, you were in the common room. You told me to check the cupboard for the sugar.”

Lance stopped mid-way from taking a sip of his tea. His hand hovered then he placed his cup down, tea untouched.

“Why?” he said.

“Why what?”

“Why was I in the common room?” Lance said, staring down at his cup, running his finger along the rim.

_I’m here to see the stars._

“You were star gazing,” Keith said. “Couldn’t sleep, just like me.”

Lance nodded, a little dumbfounded. “You remember me.”

“I remember you.”

Lance touched the surface of his tea, causing a small ripple. What was the saying? A storm in a teacup.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you now?” That question, the breathiness of Lance’s voice, the soft timber. There was a sweetness to that sound, a touch of childlike innocence tugging at his lips. It was raw. It was breathtaking.

“Yes.”

Keith pushed the tray out of harm’s way, Lance putting his cup down to his far left. They shuffled closer, leaning in at the same time. They met in the middle, noses bumping, lips touching but not quite a kiss just yet. Keith willed himself to move but he couldn’t. He’d never admit it but, he was a little scared. He wasn’t good at this kind of stuff, had never really put any thought into it until now. Maybe Lance sensed it, or maybe he was just better at this stuff. He closed the distance, giving Keith a soft peck on the mouth. There and gone. Lance opened his eyes, blinking up at Keith. Keith realised he had forgotten to close his eyes.

“Is this okay?”

Keith nodded, could feel the tips of his ears burning. He brought his hand up and cradled Lance’s cheek, thumb brushing over the light dusting of freckles. The scratch was gone, his temple no longer bleeding, but the scar was still there. Keith suddenly wanted to learn the story of that scar, of all the little secrets of Lance’s body. And maybe, just maybe, he could reveal some of his own as well.

Keith was the first to lean in this time, pressing a kiss tentatively to the corner of Lance’s mouth. He remembered to close his eyes this time.

Lance gasped. Keith smiled.

Lance caught Keith’s lips in his own, slotting them together like puzzle pieces. They bumped their chins and Lance giggled, tickling Keith’s lips. They both mumbled a _sorry_ before trying again. It was better this time, and the next, and the next. Lance ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, wrapping his other hand around Keith’s wrist. In turn, Keith wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist, bringing him in closer. Their knees knocked but neither cared.

They slowed down after a while, kisses becoming lazy pecks becoming the rubbing of noses. “It’s called an Eskimo kiss, I think,” Lance said with a chuckle.

“It tickles,” Keith complained, wrinkling his nose.

Lance’s face flushed. Keith started. “What?”

“N-nothing, just, it’s kind of adorable. When you do that,” Lance said, biting his lip.

Keith let out a huff of laughter. “I’ve been called a lot of things but adorable is not one of them.”

“Oh, I mean, sorry I –”

“No,” Keith said, kissing the tip of Lance’s nose. “It’s okay if you say it.”

Lance buried his face in Keith’s shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Keith chuckled. He was still no expert, but he had a feeling Lance’s reaction was a good one. “I’ll try to be more considerate in the future.”

“Oh, ah, speaking of,” Lance took back one of his hands and began digging in his trouser pockets. “Do you remember when we were on Zarkon’s ship?”

“The one with all the gold that could have made us rich and instead got dumped down a bottomless pit?” Keith deadpanned. “Yes, I do.”

“Well… before we found Coran’s memory chip I may or may not had started pocketing a few coins here and there.”

Keith felt his jaw drop. Lance couldn’t – there was no way he –

Lance grinned before opening his hand. A good clump of doubloons laid nestled in Lance’s palm, along with a few gems and _is that a diamond?!_

Keith poked at the treasure, checking to see that he wasn’t dreaming. “Lance –”

“I already spoke to everyone and they all agree that you deserve the treasure.”

Keith looked up unblinkingly at Lance. “What –”

Lance shrugged. “I remember you telling me about your foster mom’s inn? How she’s been wanting to re-build and stuff? Well, now she can.” Lance took Keith’s hand and opened it, tipping the treasure into his palm. “You deserve it.”

Keith shook his head, his words tumbling and tripping one over the other. “No, no I don’t. I –  
I almost got you killed, all of you. I’m the reason we even got on this ship in the first place. And then Lotor and Ezor, she, she hurt you and I put everyone else in danger and –”

“Keith.” Lance cupped Keith’s face, running his thumb along Keith’s kiss-swollen lips, hushing him. “You’re the reason we got out. You’re the reason we’re all safe. You’re the reason we got Shiro back and managed to stop a Quint-what’s-it maniac from taking over the universe.”

“Quintessence,” Keith murmured.

“Yeah, that,” Lance chuckled.

“And I didn’t do it alone,” Keith argued, voice firm. “You helped. You all helped.”

“But you deserve this,” Lance said, just as stubborn.

“And what about you?” Keith retorted. “And your family?”

Lance gave a soft smile. “I think it’s about time I told them the truth, don’t you?”

Keith hummed, picking through the treasure in his hands. He fingered a medium-sized sapphire, picking it up gently to inspect it in the light. It almost rivalled Lance’s eye colour. Almost.

“It might help if you have a set of sapphire earrings to give to your mom though,” Keith offered with a watery smile.

Lance chuckled. “Well, now that you mention it…” he plucked the sapphire from Keith’s fingers and pocketed it for safe keeping. “I’ll probably still get skinned alive, but, at least mamá will look stunning whilst doing so.”

Keith looked down at the coins and gems in his hands. He shuffled them a little, watching them glint in the low-light. He let them tumble to the ground as he reached for Lance and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Thank you,” Keith mumbled into Lance’s shoulder.

Lance froze then slowly melted in Keith’s arms, returning the hug. “You’re welcome, Mullet,” he said. Keith could feel his smile pressed against his pulse point. He shivered a little.

“Still cold?” Lance asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Keith said before pulling away. He took Lance’s hand in his once more, meeting those cool blue eyes. “Should we go say hi to the others?”

“Keith, it’s midnight.”

“Oh, right,” Keith muttered.

“Why don’t we get you to bed?” Lance chortled, slowly standing to his feet.

“I’ve been asleep for three days,” Keith said.

Lance offered Keith his other hand. Keith scooped up the treasure and placed it in the pocket of Lance’s jacket for safe-keeping, before allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He felt a lot sturdier this time around.

Lance frowned. He cradled his chin in thought. “Well… we could always go to The Spot? Do a little star-gazing?”

Keith arched a brow. “The spot?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to call it? ‘The place where Keith nearly strangled me to death?’” Lance stuck his nose in the air with a sniff. “Uh, no. Not nearly as catchy.”

Keith huffed a small laugh. He laced Lance’s hand with his own. “You’re right. It is catchy.”

Lance startled. “Did you just agree with me?”

Keith shrugged, already starting towards the door. “Technically, yes. But if anyone asks? Not in a million years.”

“Keith! Come on, buddy! This is a monumental moment in history!”

“I was just being nice.”

“Another one for the history books!”

“Lance…”

They continued to bicker all the way to the deck, which turned into light chatter when they came to ‘the spot’, which turned into silence as they took up their familiar posts and watched the stars. All the while, their clasped hands swung between the two of them in a lazy rhythm; back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so as you can see we have one more chapter after this and then By The Stars is officially complete! I just wanted to give a head's up that I'm going to be posting the final chapter on Saturday instead of the usual Thursday because I haven't finished writing it yet and student life is time-consuming, so I don't want to rush it and end off in a big mess. So yeah, Saturday is D-day. 
> 
> I just also wanted to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this and that has stuck with me from the beginning, I've loved reading your comments and being able to share this AU with everyone really has been amazing. So yeah... see ya'll on Saturday! ^.^


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fluff, fluff and more fluff.

Despite having been asleep for three days, Keith was the last to wake up the morning after his cryopod awakening.

He blinked his sleep-heavy eyes, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming down from the stairway. All the hammocks were empty, including Lance’s. The former wasn’t surprising considering… well, the whole mutiny ordeal, but the latter was. Lance had been exhausted last night, and he was usually the last one to wake up, enjoying his beauty rest. But Keith was alone, his boots and jacket his only company.

Keith swung his legs around, his bare feet touching the smooth white surface of the floor. It kinda made sense now, why the ship was the way it was… Allura, a princess. Keith smiled to himself as he pulled on his boots, quickly lacing them up before reaching for his jacket.

He hesitated.

His mom’s jacket.

_Her name was Dae._

Keith stroked the sleeve, feeling the butter-smooth leather underneath his fingers. He felt a wobbly smile tug at his lips.

He’d never get to meet her, but there were still pieces of her with him. Tidbits and far-away memories. It wasn’t nearly enough but it would have to do.

Keith reached for his jacket, only to find he was wearing one already. He looked down, inspecting the olive-green material. He’d forgotten to give Lance’s jacket back last night.

Keith shucked it off, albeit reluctantly, and hung it up on Lance’s bedpost before swinging on his own jacket. He felt something hit his rib. Digging in his right pocket, Keith produced Shiro’s knotted lion. Its mane was a little rumpled, but otherwise, it was still perfectly intact. Keith smiled, pocketing it once more before fixing his hair.

Once he’d deemed himself ready, Keith started up the stairs, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever awaited him on deck.

He wasn’t expecting a green blur to punch in solidly in the gut.

“OW! Pidge?”

“That’s for scaring me!” Pidge said before winding themselves around Keith’s waist in a tight squeeze. “And that’s for not dying,” they mumbled into his chest.

Keith returned the hug, burying his nose in their hair. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You better be,” they said, pulling back to meet his eyes. “I didn’t know what was gonna happen.”

“Neither did I. But I’m glad you’re safe.”

Pidge nodded, biting their lip in an attempt to hold back their tears. “Me too,” they said.

“Keith! Man, you should have seen them!” Hunk said, swooping in and gathering them both into his arms, lifting them clean off their feet. “They took down Zethrid by themselves! Like, they dove between her legs, getting their bayard and it was all _zezezeze!_ LIGHTS OUT! It was amazing!”

Keith nodded even though he had no idea what Hunk was saying. He’d get the full story from Pidge later. “They’re good that like,” he said, matching Pidge’s gaze. They gave him a watery smile before shoving playfully at Hunk.

“Put me down Godzilla, before I burst into tears.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Hunk said, not sounding sorry at all. Hunk lowered them back to deck, Pidge looking more themselves and Keith with an amused smile on his face. Hunk clapped him on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece.”

“Keith.”

Keith turned to see a smiling, still fully in-tact Shiro. Keith didn’t hesitate. He ran to Shiro, colliding into him at a break-neck speed. Shiro stumbled under Keith’s weight but managed to balance them both. He chortled, wrapping large arms around Keith.

“It’s good to have you back,” Keith whispered.

“It’s good to be back,” Shiro said.

“Keep those hands where I can see ‘em, Shirogane.”

Keith titled his head a little, spotting Lance off to the side. He was standing with his arms crossed, hip cocked and a smirk tugging at his lips.

Keith sent him a small smile, causing Lance’s smirk to soften.

Somewhere behind him Keith heard Pidge mutter a, “Pay up Hunk,” to which Hunk replied, “That means nothing.”

Shiro released Keith, although he kept a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Keith.”

“Thanks, Shiro.”

Shiro hummed, dropping his arm. He nodded in Lance’s direction. “I think someone’s eager to see you.” There was a playful glint in his eye.

“I could say the same for you.” Keith nodded towards the bridge where Allura was standing talking to Coran. She seemed to be better after spending some time in the cryopod, although her jacket had been lost during all the chaos with Lotor and his crew. She still had her trusty thigh-high heels on, along with a flowy white blouse tucked into her pants. Her hair was in a high pony rather than her usual tight coil. She looked more relaxed than usual. Maybe it was the casualness of her clothes, or maybe it was how comfortable she looked in Coran’s company as if he had always been there at her side, the two talking in a language Keith couldn’t fathom. When she saw that Shiro was looking her way, she stopped and gave him a small, shy wave. Her cheeks bloomed pink as her markings.

Shiro stuttered. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “We’ll talk later,” he said, before starting towards Lance.

“Hey,” Lance said, quiet.

“Hey,” Keith returned. They’d spent over an hour on the deck last night, talking about Lance’s family (he was still a little nervous about telling them the truth but there’d been determination set in his eyes. Keith knew he’d do the right thing, and he promised to be there when he did.) In return, Keith talked about his time in foster care and Ms. Raqa, about how many times he’d been caught by the police (and the times he’d escaped in the nick of time). They’d talked and talked before Lance could no longer hide his exhaustion. Keith had to threaten to fireman carry Lance to his hammock before Lance grumbled a “fine” and slogged off to bed. Lance still looked tired now, his shoulders slumping a little, although whatever face products he used, it helped mask what were probably some very deep circles under his eyes. His smile was genuine, though, reaching the corner of his eyes.

_Did you wait all that time? While I was in that cryopod. Did you sit there and wait and worry?_

Keith felt a hand brush his own before their fingers intertwined.

(“Hunk…”

“Still means nothing.”)

“You okay?” Lance asked, unsure, nervous.

Keith gave his hand a squeeze before leaning up and giving him a peck on the cheek. “More than.”

(“Hunk!”

“Totally platonic, Pidge.”)

Keith could feel the heat emanating from Lance’s cheeks, watched as red slowly crept all the way down his neck. Lance put on a suave smile, however, purring a “Well then,” before placing a finger under Keith’s chin and guiding him into a proper kiss.

Keith heard Hunk groan in devastation in the background and the distinct chink of coins changing hands.

Keith broke apart from Lance, who gave a little whine, to stare down Pidge.

“Did you have a bet on us?”

Pidge pocketed their winnings in the breast pocket of their waistcoat. “Perhaps.”

At Keith’s shocked look they cackled. “We’ve been best friend’s for how long, Keith? I know you. You’re predictable.” They side-eyed Lance with a puckish smile, “And Lance was so obvious.”

Lance squawked in indignation. “I was not!”

Shiro walked over to Pidge, offering out his palm. Pidge huffed, but fished out one of their coins and flipped it in the air. Shiro caught it before placing it in his jacket pocket for safekeeping.

Lance baulked. “Et Tu, Shiro!”

Shiro shrugged. “I bet it would be when we got back to the Space Port. Pidge bet on our next voyage only.”

“Next voyage?”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to speak to you all about that,” Allura said. She waltzed down the stairs to the main deck, coming to stand in front of their group.

“After this… little adventure, I’ve concluded that you all are rather compatible. With a bit of training, I think we could really make something of this make-shift crew.”

“Training,” Keith said, “As in –”

“I’m sure the Galaxy Garrison will be more than willing to let the both of you finish your final year. You should be able to slot into next semester and graduate with the rest of your class. That is,” Allura arched a brow, “if that is what you wish?”

Keith could feel Lance buzzing at his side.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Quite,” Coran said, stopping at Allura’s side. “I don’t know much about this Garrison school, but from what I’ve been told, it’s the perfect way to finish off your education before you join our newest venture.”

“Woah, woah, back up,” Lance said, waving his arms about. “So, we’re seriously going to get to graduate, with our diplomas, from the Galaxy Garrison?”

Allura gave a knowing smile. “Yes, that is, if you wish to join our –”

“YES! Holy quiznak, of course!” Lance exclaimed. He grabbed Keith by the shoulders, shaking him. “Keith, are you hearing this?!”

Keith swallowed thickly. Re-entering the program, being able to graduate, being offered a job straight after with none other than a princess. This had to be a dream.

“I’m dreaming,” Keith said.

Shiro clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble into Lance. “No, you’re not.”

“I don’t understand –”

“You’ve shown a lot of promise, Keith. All of you have,” Allura said. “Which is why I want to volunteer you for a new space venture –”

“To be named the Voltron Program! Rather catchy, if I do say so myself.” Coran preened, twirling his moustache.

“That is, if you complete your schooling at the Garrison,” Allura concluded, giving Coran an amused look.

“Do we have to pay for the last two semesters?” Lance asked, a little quieter.

“No, you’ll both have scholarships,” Shiro said. “Courtesy of the princess and I.”

Keith started to interject but Shiro raised a hand, silencing him.

“You deserve it,” he said. There was a look of finality in his eye that dared Keith to argue. And a part of him, a bitter, proud part, wanted to, but that was the Keith before this voyage. Before meeting Shiro and Lance and the rest of their little crew. He couldn’t give up this opportunity. He wouldn’t, not a second time.

“Okay,” Keith said, a smile curling his lips, “I’ll do it.”

Lance gave a loud “Whoop!”, exclaiming, “Yeah baby! The tailor is back!”

“The tailor?” Pidge scoffed.

Lance popped his collar. “It’s what they used to call me back at the Garrison, 'cause of how I could _thread the needle_.”

Pidge burst out cackling. “ _Thread the needle_?” they said, putting on a mock-serious tone. “Were you a master seamstress or?”

“It was because of my amazing piloting skills, I’ll have you know!”

“Sure, Lance,” Pidge said. “Whatever you say.”

 

***

 

Shiro piloted the Laith back to the Space Port, being the only one with experience of docking a ship that large. They were four months early. They’d all agreed beforehand to keep their finding (and destroying) of Treasure Planet a secret. If anyone was to ask, they lost the crew during the black hole incident and decided to turn back after the event. Everyone was a little upset that they couldn’t share what was probably the biggest discovery since solar-power but they knew it was for the best.

Once the Laith was safely docked and the gangplank lowered, Hunk was the first to rush down to solid ground.

“Oh man! It is so good being back,” he said, kissing the cobblestones with fervour.

“Hunk, buddy, you’re gonna catch something if you keep doing that,” Lance said. He was shouldering his and Keith’s bags, much to Keith’s irritation because, “I can carry my own bag, Lance.” “Hush, you’re still recovering.”

Hunk stood up, patting away the dust from his knees. “I know, I just, I’m really glad to be back on a planet that isn’t about to self-destruct.”

Lance gave Hunk a look. “Hunk?” he whispered conspiratorially.

Hunk made a zipping motion on his lips. “Right, got ya.”

“Hunk!”

“Shay!”

Hunk went running through the bustling crowd, elbowing people out of the way with polite “Excuse me’s” before coming to a short stop in front of an elderly lady and a female Balmeran (a rock-like species with incredible height and intelligence). The old woman was most definitely Hunk’s grandmother, she had the same sturdy set of shoulders and thick eyebrows. Her chocolate eyes glistened with happiness. The Balmeran, Keith guessed, was Shay.

“Gran!” Hunk bent down low, hugging his grandmother with all his might, before standing up and smiling shyly at Shay.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to come.”

“We’ve been here for the last week. My father is busy with some meetings about the next shipments.” She smiled before kissing him softly on the cheek, whispering something indecipherable in his ear. Whatever it was, it made Hunk blush from the tips of his ears down all the way to his toes.

“That’s Shay, Hunk’s not-girlfriend,” Lance said.

Keith chuckled. “I’d figured as much.”

Keith considered them. Shay was a few centimeters taller than Hunk, with golden eyes and large hoop earrings in either ear. From the looks Hunk and Shay were sharing, Keith could tell they were besotted.

“Katie? Katie!”

Keith just spotted three very familiar heads of tawny brown hair (one with a little more grey than brown) when Pidge came barreling between him and Lance, causing them both to stumble.

“Dad!” Pidge yelled, running into their father’s awaiting arms.

Captain Samuel Holt beamed, squeezing Pidge tightly to his chest. “Oh! There’s my space adventurer.”

Pidge looked up at their father, their chin lifted in pride. “I told you I could it,” they said.

Sam smiled down at them. “I always knew you could.”

“Where’s my hug?”

“Matt!” Pidge immediately untangled themselves from their father, only to re-tangle themselves with their brother. Matt chuckled, returning their hug.

“Good to see you too, Pidge.”

Matt was a near-perfect copy of his sibling, only taller with a scar running down his left cheek. He no longer wore his prescription glasses, which now sat perched atop Pidge’s nose. It had been his gift to them before going off on his first voyage with his father and Shiro.

Speaking of…

“Captain Holt.”

“Shiro!” Sam grasped Shiro’s outstretched hand, shaking it. “Long time no see!”

Shiro chuckled. “Sorry, I’ve sort of been occupied.”

Sam peeked over Shiro’s shoulder to where Allura and Coran were standing, talking to the docking master about their situation.

“I’m sure,” Sam said, giving Shiro a wink.

Shiro sputtered. Before he could argue, though, Matt came to his rescue. “Leave him alone, Dad,” Matt said. He turned a grin to Shiro.

“It’s good to see you, Shiro,” Matt said, offering his hand once Pidge had moved on to their mother. Shiro grasped Matt’s hand, only to pull Matt into a hug. Matt startled at first but then melted into it, hiding a fond smile against Shiro’s shoulder.

“Good to see you too, Matt,” Shiro whispered.

Lance let out a shaky sigh, drawing Keith's attention away from the Holts and Shiro. Lance was bouncing on the balls of his feet, shaking out his hands with a nervous look on his face.

Coran, with the help of Pidge, had sent EM’s to everyone’s families informing them of their safe return. Including Lance’s. He’d put up a brave front at first, but the closer they’d come to the Space Port, the more his mask began to crack. Keith took Lance’s hand in his own, giving it a light squeeze.

He didn’t say anything because he couldn’t promise anything. But he could be here for Lance now, lend him his strength just as Lance had done for him.

Lance stilled, matching Keith’s gaze. Some of the tenseness in his shoulders melted away. He smiled. Keith smiled back.

“Lance?”

Lance’s face dropped.

“Lance? Lance, is that you?”

“Mom?” Lance said, searching through the crowd. “Mom?”

“Lance!”

“Mom!” Lance ran to a woman with bushy brown hair. Keith couldn’t see very well from this distance, but he guessed the small crowd behind the woman must be the rest of Lance’s family. They all shared some distinct feature or other that reminded Keith of Lance. There was a boy with the same floppy hair and pointed chin, a man that rivalled Hunk in size with a similar shade of bronze skin. A middle-aged man with a handlebar moustache stood to the side with two grandparents while a woman balanced two very Lance-looking children on either hip.

Lance stopped short of his mother. He hesitated, waiting to see what her reaction might be.

She looked him up and down, taking the sight of Lance in. Keith wondered when last she’d seen Lance. The Garrison was a boarding school, and if Keith remembered correctly, Lance’s family all lived in Cuba. He wondered what Lance’s mother must be thinking, remembering a fourteen-year-old boy only to find a young man in his place.

“Lance,” his mother whispered, reaching up and cupping Lance’s cheek.

“Mom,” Lance croaked. He dropped both his and Keith’s bags unceremoniously before stepping into his mother’s embrace. She was a good head shorter than Lance, but that didn’t stop either of them. Lance was almost bent double, resting his head on his mother’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Lance said. “I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have,” the woman said with a sad smile. She pulled Lance back, but only enough so they could see eye-to-eye. “But we’ll talk about that later. I’m just glad you’re safe. We all are.”

Lance nodded, his cheeks streaked with tear-marks. His mother put a hand to her mouth. “Don’t cry, honey. Or I’ll start crying!”

“Too late,” Lance said with a sniff, giving a shaky laugh.

Keith turned away. He’d intruded enough.

He was pondering on what to do while everyone caught up with their families. Should he go back to the ship and wait it out? Or maybe start considering a flight back to Earth. He needed to explain everything to Ms. Raqa. He could only imagine the look on her face when he told her the news. Maybe –

“Keith!”

Keith looked about, uncertain he’d heard correctly.

“Keith! Over here!”

Ms. Raqa was waving at him, trying to catch his attention.

Keith stuttered. “Ms. Raqa?”

Ms. Raqa squeezed between two flatulents before walking over to Keith. Her braids were piled atop her head in a messy bun, no nurse’s cap or apron in sight.

“Keith,” she said, breathing a little heavily. “I’ve been looking everywhere. This place is so confusing, I don’t know how anyone knows where to go.”

“What are you doing here?” Keith asked with genuine confusion.

Ms. Raqa blinked up at him. “I came to see you.”

“But why?”

Ms. Raqa scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Keith shook his head “I don’t understand. I –”

“Keith, when are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that I care about you?” Ms. Raqa said, her smile blinding. He reached up, attempting to tuck a strand of his bangs behind his ear. It didn’t stick, bouncing back immediately. She clucked her tongue.

“You need a haircut,” she said.

Keith felt his chest swell with… _something_. When he’d first come to the Red Lion, he thought he’d be stuck with another foster parent just in it for the money, someone who’d realise very soon that Keith was not going to be a quiet, goodie-two-shoes child. Keith knew he was a handful. He knew he was trouble back then, and even now. And yet Ms. Raqa had kept him on. She’d taught him how to cook and helped him scrounge around for spare parts for his solar surfers and hoverbike. She’d supported him when he came home with a week-long suspension and when the dismissal letter had not-so-kindly informed him that he’d never amount to anything. She’d been there for him. And he’d been there for her when he wasn’t causing trouble. He’d worked extra hours when he could so she could have a well-deserved break, had helped repair appliances that needed replacing a long time ago. He’d gone on this adventure to bring her back what she was due and more. The gold and gems Lance had given him were burning a hole in his pocket. They felt so small, so insubstantial compared to what Ms. Raqa had provided him all these years. For the guidance she’d given, the faith she’d provided. For the mother she’d been.

Keith didn’t even register he was hugging her at first. He heard a small gasp of surprise and felt two arms gently curl around his shoulders, giving him an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh, Keith.”

Keith pulled back, reaching into his pocket. He offered up the small fortune for Ms. Raqa. “It’s not much, and I know I’ll never be able to repay you for everything that you’ve done for me, but it can be a start.”

Ms. Raqa looked down at the gems glistening in the late-morning light, gaping at Keith.

“And I’ve been re-accepted to the Garrison. I have a job offer for once I graduate, with Allura, uh – Captain Allura and Shiro and, and I promise, I won’t mess up this time. I’m going to make I proud because that’s the least you deserve and –”

Keith was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, could feel Ms. Raqa’s smile against his chest.

“I’m already proud, Keith. So, so proud.” She pulled back once again, grasping his elbows and looking him up and down. “Look at you,” she said.

“What?”

“You’ve finally seen your potential.”

Keith ducked his head in embarrassment. Ms. Raqa was having none of it, tugging on a lock of his hair until he looked up. Her ultra-violet eyes were crinkled at the corners. “I’m so proud of you. And I hope you are too.”

Keith coughed, trying to get rid of the saltiness at the back of his throat. Keith wasn’t a crier. Never had been. It didn’t serve you well in foster care. But, admittedly, he was finding it a little difficult to keep back the small number of tears he felt wanted to trickle down his cheeks.

“I am,” he said, giving a watery smile. “I am.”

“Keith!”

Keith spotted Lance waving him over, pointing to his family. “Come on! I need to introduce you to everyone!”

Keith gave a shaky exhale. He felt Ms. Raqa squeeze his bicep. He looked down. She smiled up at him.

“And who is that?”

“Lance.”

She arched a curious brow.

“He went the Garrison as well. We’re… um. We’re –”

“Keith!”

Ms. Raqa chuckled. “You can tell me about it later. I want to be introduced though.”

Keith looked to Lance was energetically bouncing up and down, trying to catch his attention. Keith let out a huff of a laugh.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

Ms. Raqa bumped her shoulder with his. “I’ll try not to embarrass you too much.”

Keith started. “You wouldn’t.”

Ms. Raqa only smiled. She started towards Lance and his family, turning to beckon him. “Well come along.”

Keith took a steadying breath, willing himself to calm down.

_It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just meeting Lance’s family, no biggie. No biggie._

He knew he was lying to himself but that didn’t stop him meeting up with Ms. Raqa and walking her over to Lance and his family.

Lance sidled up to Keith’s side, grinning like an idiot.

“Hey, who’s this?”

“This is Ms. Raqa.”

“I’m Keith’s foster mom,” she said, offering Lance a hand.

Lance took it, giving the back of her hand a quick peck. “Charmed,” he said.

Ms. Raqa raised her eyebrows at Keith. Keith tried not to blush too much.

“Lance, stop being a tease.” Lance’s mother smacked him lightly on the shoulder, shaking her head. She shook Ms. Raqa’s hand.

“Hello, I’m Lance’s mother, Cara. And this,” she said, turning her attention to Keith, “must be the boy my son has been talking non-stop about since he was fourteen.”

“Mom!” Lance squeaked.

“It’s true!” she said, smiling at Keith. “As soon as I saw you I knew who you were. It’s the hair.”

Keith touched the hair at the nape of his neck, biting his lip. “Uh, I.”

“Mom, you’re embarrassing him,” Lance admonished, wrapping a protective arm around Keith’s waist.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered. “Anything she says is a total lie. I swear.”

Keith arched a brow. “Since we were fourteen?”

“We were rivals! I didn’t like you back then!”

“We were rivals? Really?”

Lance mocked gasped. “Oh my gosh, you really don’t remember me, do you?”

“Of course I do! What was that whole moment in the common room?”

“Lies apparently!”

“Lance, seriously? I –”

While the two of them argued Cara and Ms. Raqa shared a look.

“I think they’ll get along swimmingly,” Cara whispered, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Ms. Raqa said in return.

 

***

 

**ONE YEAR LATER**

 

The Red Lion Inn was bursting to the brim with guests. It was the night of their re-opening and, after many months of renovation, the Red Lion had opened its doors for the entire town to come celebrate. There was more than enough space for them all.

Everyone was congregating in the main hall, having finished their dinners, the table and chairs had been pushed to the side, allowing a space for dancers and musicians to take their place and get the real party started.

Everyone was here, the Holt family all dressed in shades of green and orange. Matt had tied back his now shoulder-length hair in a neat pony which seemed to have garnered the attention of a rather handsome Unilu who kept giving it a playful tug. Matt was a blushing mess. The same could be said for Pidge, who was busy talking to the Unilu kiosk girl they’d met on their first day at the Garrison Space Port. They’d grown rather close over the past year, what with Pidge going out on the occasional voyage with their father and brother while they waited for Lance and Keith to finish their final year at the Garrison.

Hunk was busy making rounds, checking that everyone had gotten a slice of cake. He’d baked especially for tonight, five layers of vanilla, chocolate and red velvet wrapped up in purple and blue butter icing, splatters of white chocolate acting as stars against their edible night-sky background. Shay eventually managed to pull him away onto the dance floor, leading him in a jig. Hunk wasn’t the best of dancers but, with Shay’s guidance, he managed to keep up. They’d started dating soon after they’d arrived back from their trip to Treasure Planet, Shay’s family having moved to the Garrison Space Port for her father’s merchant business.

“Finally!” Lance had exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air when Hunk told them. To which Pidge had held out an expectant palm. Lance had begrudgingly paid them their due amount from their bet. So had Keith, who’d only joined in on the bet because he was certain Hunk wouldn’t ask Shay for at least another month.

However, Keith had won the bet on when Allura would finally crack and ask Shiro out. It had been quite the spectacle. It was during a weekend lunch, they’d all managed to get together to discuss Voltron’s first voyage. Shiro and Allura had been sharing looks the entire lunch. Their hands brushing whenever Shiro passed a dish, Allura blushing profusely. Shiro had looked like he was about to say something multiple times to which Allura’s ears perked up, her eyes widening with hope. But Shiro always managed to cover it up, asking if she’d like another cup of tea or perhaps another slice of bread? By the end of the lunch, everyone was sharing worried looks. Allura looked about ready to explode with exasperation and Shiro wasn’t too far behind. In the end, Allura had been the one to make the first move. Done with Shiro dancing around her for nearly four years, she had grabbed Shiro by the cheeks and demanded he take her to dinner, “Otherwise I’ll set Coran on you. And you do not want that.” Shiro didn’t need to be asked twice. Now, six months later, they were busy talking quietly between themselves in a corner, Allura in a soft baby pink dress and Shiro in his white uniform, spotless as ever with several medals adorning his chest.

And in the center of it was Ms. Raqa, flitting between guests, not in her cap and apron, but rather a stunning plum-purple dress that brought out the violet in her eyes. She was smiling so wide, Keith was worried her cheeks would break any moment.

“Is it just me or are these jackets really stuffy?”

Keith looked to Lance who was busy pulling at his collar, fanning himself. His cream-white jacket was adorned with gold trim and brass buttons, blue silk decorating his collar where Keith’s was red. They both had the same medal pinned to their left breast showcasing their having graduated from the Garrison Galaxy School with flying colours. General Iverson had not looked pleased to see either of them, but they’d proven themselves in both their practicals and theory. Pidge had helped them study for the finals, catching them up on what they’d missed. It had been tiring, and more than once Iverson had tested Keith’s patience. But instead of letting the General get to him, Keith had come out on top of their class, Lance following close behind by one point.

“I still think they miscalculated,” Lance would argue to which Keith would laugh and give Lance a light peck on the cheek. “Whatever you say, Lance.”

“Keith, seriously, please can we take these off?”

“Not until midnight.”

“But whyyyy?” Lance whined, resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder.

“Because that’s when Allura said we could be less formal.”

“But Matt’s taken off his jacket,” Lance said.

“More like his Unilu friend did it for him.”

Lance looked at the two men who were not-so-secretly not-talking in a dark corner.

“Fine,” Lance huffed.

Keith would never say it out loud, but he really liked Lance in his uniform. It fit in all the right places, his pants tapering down to accentuate his long, long legs, the jacket showing off his broad shoulders, the creamy-white colour contrasting beautifully with his tanned skin. Lance had changed his hair since last year, having his fringe styled to the side and the back of his hair trimmed shorter. Keith, after much prompting from Ms. Raqa, had gotten his own haircut, neatening up his over-grown bangs. Although, he kept the longer strands at the back, opting to tie his hair up with a red ribbon rather than cut it off. Lance liked it. He’d never admit it, not even on his deathbed, but Keith knew he liked it.

Keith felt lean arms wrap loosely around his waist, bringing him in closer to Lance’s chest.

“Hey,” Lance said, smiling down at him.

“Hi.”

“Wanna head to the balcony? Get some fresh air?”

Keith looked about. Everyone seemed busy, all occupied bustling about but in a good way; when you’re happy doing what you’re doing. Shiro caught his eye and gave him a knowing smile. Keith returned it before looking back up at Lance.

“Sure.”

“Awesome,” Lance said, grabbing Keith by the hand and leading him to the nearest balcony, “because seriously it’s like the seventh circle of hell down here and I think I might faint at any moment.”

“Wasn’t that the one made of ice?”

Lance huffed, “Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” Keith shrugged, trying to hide his smile. He didn’t do a very good job of it.

As they stepped through the balcony doors, a cold breeze brushed Keith’s cheeks, immediately making him shiver. It felt like having a bucket of ice thrown over his head, although, it was rather soothing after being in the stuffy ballroom.

“Okay, now it’s like the seventh circle of hell,” Lance said, his teeth chattering.

“Come here,” Keith said. He wrapped Lance up in a hug, Lance’s hands sliding underneath Keith’s jacket. It had taken Keith a while to get used to this, being intimate. Lance had been okay with it, taking it slow. “What matters is that we’re together,” he’d whisper before kissing Keith soundly on lips.

Keith let out a soft sigh, breathing in Lance’s salt-water scent with just a hint of vanilla essence.

“And that?” Lance asked with a chuckle. His warm breath tickled at Keith’s ear.

“Nothing, just…”

Lance pulled back, meeting Keith’s eyes. “Just what?”

Keith shrugged. “Happy. I’m happy.” He meant it. He really, really meant it.

A soft smile bloomed across Lance’s face, his eyes heavy-lidded. “I’m glad.”

“You’re happy, right?” Keith asked, searching Lance’s face. It had been hard on Lance, explaining to his family what had happened. His parents had been angry at first, they had every right. But they’d talked it out and a new pair of sapphire earrings may or may not have helped a little.

Lance rested his forehead against Keith, their noses touching. “I’m more than happy. I’m like, ecstatic and overjoyed and all those other fancy synonyms.”

Keith huffed a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot,” Lance grinned.

“That you are.”

“Keith?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Even after all this time, of a year of being together, of Lance staying with Keith and Ms. Raqa over the summer and Keith visiting Lance and his family in their little house by the beach in Cuba, of working through the Garrison and proving to everyone that they deserved to be there, of working together and helping each other when needed, of being each other’s support system. Even after all that, Lance still asked like it was their first kiss, back on the Laith, Keith in a weird unitard and Lance exhausted from staying at Keith’s side for those three long days.

Keith loved that about Lance.

“Yes.”

They met each other half-way. It was a soft kiss, nothing over-dramatic or passionate, just the light brush of lips, the flicker of a tongue, Lance grinning and Keith smiling until their not kissing anymore but giggling.

“Oh man, I don’t know how everyone’s gonna handle us on this first trip.”

“Or any trip,” Keith said. They were due to ship out the following morning, the Laith awaiting her new crew also known as Voltron Force. Coran was right, it did have a rather nice ring to it.

“But they’ll just have to get used to it,” Keith added, giving Lance’s nose a small peck.

Lance blushed a dusty rose. He’d probably blame it on the cold, but Keith could tell the difference.

Keith couldn’t help but smile. He was happy.

He was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! 
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who left such amazing comments and who has stuck with this story since the beginning. I've loved reading your guys' comments and it's honestly what makes writing all the better. 
> 
> I need to finish another project on here way back when from 2016 (yikes) and then I'm going to take a little breather. But I do have two more Klance fics planned. I won't say much but one will be set in the canon universe and the other is gonna be a 50's/60's AU... Until then, thank you and I hope you enjoyed (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ By The Stars✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)


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